


Bodies in Time

by BairnSidhe



Series: Bodies-verse [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BAMF Darcy Lewis, Bodyswap, Creepy Alexander Pierce, Darcy has a Crazy Granny who isn't actually crazy, Death, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Heartbreak, Hydra and Red Room, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Multi, Starts Fluff turns Feels, Steve lacks self preservation, Temporal Protection, World War II, nothing super graphic, off screen deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-13 09:02:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 62,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7970908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BairnSidhe/pseuds/BairnSidhe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The women of Darcy Lewis's family have a powerful gift, or curse.  They switch places with people destined to change the world when those people's lives are threatened before the important thing they are supposed to do happens.</p><p>Steve Rogers is one of those people, and man, that boy gets close to dead a lot.  Fortunately his Swap is none other than Judo artist, Softball player, and all star badass Darcy Lewis.</p><p>James Buchanan Barnes think's he's just along for the ride.  But when war comes knocking, he might just get caught up in this whole mess further than he thought.</p><p> </p><p>[Notice from the office of the Fangirl General: consumption of fic has been known to cause Feels, impatience, addiction and fan-theory.<br/>The maker of this fic encourages you to fic responsibly.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so tigerliliesandcherryblossoms on Tumblr is responsible for this. Mostly. Ok, like 12-15% responsible.
> 
> Remember feedback is love, feedback is good, _feed the muse_.

It first happened in Darcy Lewis’s Judo class, practicing falls with the younger kids.  She was a junior in High School, and she traded teaching the pipsqueaks for more advanced lessons, just to take some strain off.  They weren’t poor or anything, but she liked to help.  First thing she knows is Sensei Thorpe pulling her into a toss to show the fall, then she really is falling, and suddenly she’s hauling herself up out of trash while some punk-ass bitch in stupid grandpa clothes comes at her.  Psha, like that’s _ever_ gonna work.  She stands up calmly, noting and dismissing the fact she’s now a boy.  Crazy Grandma Bahrenburg warned her this sometimes happened to the women of the line.  Mom never said it didn’t, but she got pretty pissy about Ancient Greece and Plato for no real reason.  Checking everything works as well as she needs it to, and whoa, colorblindness is freaky, she gets in a good stance.  Thank any and all gods that this guy is her height, she could not have piloted a giant like the fucker coming at her now.

“Ain’t this where you say ‘I could do this all day’ Rogers?” he asks.  So, her swap’s last name is Rogers and from the accent and clothes, in depression era New York?  Interesting.

“Nah,” she tries to let her voice sound native.  It works better than expected.  “I mean, I could, but I won’t, because I don’t beat up on unconscious boys.”

“You little shite-kicker, I’m gonna…”  Darcy never finds out what he was going to do, because he left her a great opening and she took it.  Martial Arts are not about honor or fair play, they’re about leveling the big guy so you, the littler guy, can run away.  Some choice shots and a hip-check toss sends him head first into a brick wall.  She should feel bad about the wet crack sound, but feeling her body's asthma kick in and realizing he has a spine deformity makes her not care.  Who beats up a walking health disaster?  As she exits the alley, a (really fuckin’ hot) guy with dark hair and blue eyes and a smudge of motor oil on his nose corners her.

“Steve!  Are you alright, bud?  I heard Mac the Mountain was after ya!”

“Would Mac happen to be the Neanderthal throwback in that alley?”

The guy starts, either at her lack of knowledge or her accent.  But he checks the alley.  “How’d you _do_ that?”

“I’m a junior 6th class judo artist.  I’m also not Steve.  My family does this body switch thing.  Pain in the ass, now I know why Mom bitches about Plato.  But based on how sore this body is, probably good it was me driving not him.  Does he even _know_ how to fall?  With a spine like this, he needs to learn, like five years ago.  Ow.”

“That’s… very crazy, but probably true, since you aren’t hiding pain.  James.”  He stuck out a hand and Darcy shook it.

“Darcy.  Tell him to slap the ground next time, it disperses the force and reduces shock and damage.  Also, you need to get him to stop tucking his thumb when he punches.  It’s not broken, thank god, but it hurts.  I don’t know if I’ll be back, but I think I feel the switch.  Nice to meet ya, cutie.”  She winked at him.  Then she was on the cot in the dojo.

“Gah, something died in my mouth, get me water.”

“You ok, Sensei Lewis?” asked a mousey junior 12th class barely out of elementary.

“Get me some water and I will be.  And never ever fall that way, ever.”

“Got it Sensei!”  Water was passed to her in her blue glitter sports bottle.  “You said some strange stuff after you woke up, the first time, I mean.”

“Concussions can do that,” Darcy said non-committedly.  “Which is why you tuck your head and slap the ground.  I need to go home and rest now.”

Darcy did not go home.  Darcy went to Crazy Grandma Bahrenburg’s place.  She told her grandmother about it, and her grandmother wrote it all down in a blue leather-bound notebook.  The kind with no lines, although Crazy Grandma Bahrenburg’s neat block print didn’t need it.  And it let her draw stuff, although it was frustrating trying to explain an image.  Words were her thing, not pictures.  She’d see if it happened again, and maybe the blue book would fill up like the purple one her Mom had that she read sometimes but wouldn’t share with Darcy or Dad.  Crazy Grandma Bahrenburg said it could happen more and more, and as it did, she’d learn to feel it coming and get safe.  She finally let Darcy read the other journals.  Some of the colored journals said they delayed the switch by a day to get to safety for their soul-swap.  Some of them said they fell in love when switched.  Most went through time and space; some just went through space to another place in the same time, and how far back was random it seemed.  The dusky blue journal of her ancestress from the Civil War talked about when she met Homer, of the Odyssey. Grandma’s journal said she met Grandpa when switching and went looking for him, since he was only five years back.  Everybody tracked one thing, they switched concurrent with age.  So Steve was sixteen. About to turn seventeen.

<^>

Steve thought he’d finally cracked, the way everybody said he would, lost his mental faculties.  He woke up and the world was too bright, too full of things he couldn’t process.  He turned his head away from the bright bars of light and stared at the padded mat beneath him.  Oh wow, apparently, if he was losing it, some of those rumors about guys like him were right.   Not only was he being blind sided with sight he wasn’t sure how to process, he had…feminine attributes.  Really nice ones.  He resisted the urge to touch one.  He asked for a mirror and the negro man in the white outfit with the two colored knotted belt laughed.  “Lewis, you hit your head too hard if you’re feeling vain.  And you know damn well there’s a mirror to your left.  Roll the other fucking direction, dumb-ass.”

Feeling indignant on behalf of his imagined female self, he protested.  “Sir, there is a lady present, you shouldn’t swear like that in front of a lady.”

“When’d a lady come in, Lewis?  The small fries are resting a bit and can’t hear, the moms aren’t here yet, and… oh, you meant you.  Ha!  Oh, even with a concussion you crack me up.  You ain’t a fucking lady, Lewis, and you swear worse than motha-fuckers I was in the Army with.”  He was still laughing as he left.  Steve stood up and tried to figure out how women even stood up with these things unbalancing them, turned to his left, looked in the mirror at a really stunning dame in a white outfit like the man, only with a belt of another color.  He wondered what it was.  Some mats on the floor were the same color.  A glance out the wide shop style window gave him a reference.  Blue.  Sky was blue, usually.  But hers was dark, and bright.  Saturated, he thought.  This is what they mean when they say saturated.  Her lips were a dark color that seemed not to be colored with anything.  Bucky said dame’s lips were usually pink, but the dark shades were red, and that usually meant coloring them.  Her lips weren’t as saturated as the stripes on the man’s belt, so it was red and white.  But were her lips still red if they weren’t saturated?  Or were they pink?

“What are you looking at, Sensei Lewis?” asked a girl, she reminded him of Becca, Buck’s sister.

“I… don’t think I realized how pretty colors were before.  Like that,” he pointed to a ruffled band that held back her hair.  It was like blue, but not blue and it had shiny stars on it.  “It’s really swell looking.  I like the color.”

“Thanks, Sensei,” the girl blushed.  “It’s new, I got it at Claire’s, they had a sale on scrunchies.  I have the purple one, and a green one, and a blue one.  Marissa got red, pink and yellow.”

“Can I see them?” he asked in a way he hoped was casual.  “I guess when I hit my head, I started seeing color… differently.”

“I… sure Sensei.  But if you’re gonna puke, you gotta tell Sensei Thorpe, it’s the rules.  But you know that.”  He followed her off the padded floor, made sure to bow to the room as she did, and let the girl show him scrunchies.  Other girls pulled out nail polishes to indulge his need for more colors.  Then a sudden wave of nausea hit him and the negro man was back, putting him firmly in a cot, checking his eyes for something and telling him to rest.

<^>

Bucky handled the whole thing pretty damn well, he thought.  His best friend and long unspoken crush had a person switch bodies with him just in time to beat a bully like a drum.  And it was a dame, maybe, he thought a dame from the smile and the wink and ‘cutie’, but maybe it was a fella, one like him, but Darcy _had_ completely flattened Mac 'the Mountain' O’Rourke.  You just didn’t ask that sort of thing.  It made as much sense as anything, he knew Stevie was special, maybe the universe or God or something knew it too, and put a competent person in place when Steve was going to get his special, stupid, reckless head knocked off.  Then Steve passed out and Bucky carried him home.  When he woke up, Bucky asked what Darcy looked like.  Steve told him.  Pretty dame.  Dark hair, pale skin, red lips that were naturally red.  Wait a fucking second.  “Red?”

“Well yeah, it looked a lot like the Strawberry Margarita nail paint, and strawberries are red, right?”

“You saw colors?!?”

“Yeah, I mean, it was _her_ body, and what would be the odds she was also colorblind?  So I got to see colors, and the girls were real helpful, showin’ me new ones.”

“What was your favorite?”

“Blue.  Her belt was blue.  _Saturated_ blue,” he emphasized, and Bucky knew he had wanted to know what people meant, so the satisfied tone made sense.  “With the white pants and jacket thing, it looked good.  Oh, and she was working with this guy, both of them teachers, and get this, he was negro!  I didn’t say anything, but since I’m pretty sure she was in our future, will be, you know, well that means someday guys like your friend Jim at the docks are gonna get fancy jobs teaching people stuff and be respected proper for their knowledge.  And he was in the Army.  You shoulda seen all the bowing to him before he taught ‘em stuff.  All ‘thank you Sensei’ and ‘may we learn arm locks, please Sensei?’ and he had ‘em all watching him as he showed ‘em how to stand right to do stuff.”

“Well, that’s great, pal, I’m just glad Mac didn’t flatten ya.”

“MAC THE MOUNTAIN HIT DARCY?” Steve shrieked.  “Aww, geez, I forgot what was happening when I swapped.”

“Actually Darcy hit Mac.  Pretty bad.  He was knocked out in an alley when I caught up to you, Darcy, you know.”

“Darcy’s a dame, a classy one,” Steve said defensively.  His Guardian Angel was a classy dame and classy dames did not go around getting in fights.  “She’s not a scrapper or nothin’, you know, Buck.”

“Darcy is a junior 6th class judo artist, which apparently means she’s a dame who can toss a man into the garbage even in your tiny body and throw a better punch than you and can take a fall proper.  By the way, she said to slap the ground when you fall, makes it hurt less, and stop tucking your goddamn thumb, ya punk.  I told you that a thousand times!”

“Huh.  Alright.  Darcy is a classy dame who could hand Mac the Mountain his ass if need be.  I guess they aren’t incompatible.  It’s not like she asked for it.”

“You gonna draw her?”

“What do you think?  You’re the one who says I draw everything.”

Next week Bucky found a sketchbook with pictures of a laughing negro man, a group of girls in pants and belted jackets clustered around tiny bottles and squiggly bands.  Then he flipped the page and saw her.  Darcy.  Gorgeous Darcy, who could hand Mac the Mountain his ass so hard he hadn’t bothered anybody in a full week.  Thank the Lord their apartment’s water heater didn’t work half the time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy deals with a gang in her own, very Darcy way.
> 
> Steve learns more about Swaps.
> 
> And Bucky is forced to think about his relationship with Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, wow, the outpouring of love for this is great.
> 
> Chapter dedicated to: kittykatdennings94, mouseymightymarvellous, Antiel, Aderendal, SerialObsessor (DlStar71), merrysoul, HellKat, Reesachan (Clymenestra), Amethyst_Moon, Pineapple_an_me, Shadows_of_Shemai, barisitrash (bananamangos), racecz5, SionnachOiche3, Pen37, UltraCute, and all NINETY FREAKING NINE people who left kudos. Normally I list them, but it literally ran out of room and this is an actual quote "and 14 more users as well as 35 guests left kudos on this work!" Holy cow, guys!

The second time it happened, Darcy felt it coming.  She knew, somehow she had enough time to turn the car and get to Crazy Grandma Bahrenburg’s house before she collapsed.  She’d miss school, but she could get a note.  She felt the first punch land as she pulled in the drive, that was weird.  Gasping she got to the bell before letting herself fall into Steve’s body.

Another alley, geez, was this guy homeless?  And the smell, gah, thank god someone invented odor blocking trash bags before she was born.  She shook off phantom pains and real ones and leveled her eyes with the leader of the pack in front of her.

“Bad idea, boys.  See, I don’t quite like this behavior, and I’m gonna stop it.”  She spat a mouthful of salty blood on the ground in front of the leader and noted the lack of tang from iron.  Steve must have anemia.  She’d try to write him a note about cast iron cookware and liver.  The guy she spat at laughed but it was a pale imitation of scary.  Darcy knew scary.  Scary was getting hit by the boob fairy at age nine and fending off creeps before she could watch PG13 movies.  Scary was twin towers falling on TV, and being at war ever since.  Scary was anonymous cyber bullies attacking her.  Scary was walking her friend into the hospital for a rape kit at fifteen.  Scary was the words “boys will be boys”.  Scary was life as a Millennial female.  _Scary_ , she could handle.  This, well, this was just pathetic.

“Gonna get you this time, you punk,” muttered someone, and she noted him for future retribution.  She’d read up on the slang of the era.

“Aw, geez, fellas, all ya had to do was ask me nice like,” she said with a grin that on her was sexy and come-hither.  On a guy, to men locked into heteronormative roles, it was creepy.  She sauntered up to the leader, using more sex than she would have the courage to in her own body.  “If you say pretty please with a cherry on top, I’ll let you clean my kitchen.”  He recoiled and she winked.  It hit him like a pile driver blow.

“I… I’m not, not….”

“Not queer?  Neither am I, far as I know, but I’m young.  But now _you_ know what sexual harassment feels like, ya asshat jerkface.  Unwanted attentions, from unwanted persons who don’t take ‘no’ for an answer.  And stop using queer as a pejorative, it’s totally normal for some people to be wired that way.  Female hyenas regularly have rough lesbian sex with each other, and fish, man, _so many_ fish are freaks in the metaphorical sheets.  So don’t pull nature into this debate, She is not on your side.  And don’t use God either, ‘cause ya can’t have a deity that makes and loves each of us and is infallible, if ya also want to say a punk, or a fairy or whatever is going against God by being themselves.  If ya want ta push the issue, you’ve gotta own your fear, ya homophobic bag of dicks.”

“You’ve got a lotta nerve Rogers.”

“About a hundred billion of ‘em,” Darcy replied cheerfully.  “Normally.  I’m running low, and trust me pal, my last nerve, that ain’t a place ya go for fun.  Ask Mac the Mountain.  He went looking for Mohamed and he found me instead.”

The leader swung at her and she dropped low to sweep his legs out from under him.  He went down hard.  God, none of the assholes from the 30’s knew how to fall.  A sharp kick to the genitals kept him down as Darcy faced her next opponent.  He also fell like a ton of bricks to a pretty simple nerve hit he could have deflected.  Everyone scrambled to run, but Darcy grabbed the one asshole who called Steve gay.  She knew her judo was only for self-defense or defense of others, or in this case, both, but she was _pissed_.  So she loop-holed the thing and smashed his head face first into a wall with no finesse, just brute force she had gotten in softball.   It was a lot like pitching, only short distance and into solid brick not a bat or a mitt.  She left him on the ground and took stock of her injuries as she exited the alley.  A convenient storefront window told her Steve was actually pretty adorable under the broken nose and split lip.  She rummaged in his pockets for a tissue, and got a large handkerchief instead.  Well that was better anyways.  She reset the nose with a muffled ‘ow’ and caught the blood in the fabric.

“Steve!”  She turned to see the hottie from last swap.

“Heya, James,” she greeted him, tipping her head a bit to channel the blood flow down and not out so she could pull the cloth down from her face.  “Can you buy a cast iron pan?  Steve’s iron levels are low.”

“Darcy,” he said, smiling.  “Dollface, how many people did you break?”

“Mentally or physically?  I ask because I only beat up three, but I think I melted the brains of every goon there.  Oh, and I really hope Steve is secure in his masculinity, because I kind of hit on them to do it.  Not literally, I mean put the moves on them.  To show them why people don’t like being harassed.”

“I think Steve would be fine with that, Doll.  Is he safe in your body?”

“Should be, I left when I was at my Grandma’s door.  She’s the one who told me about the swaps.  Still, try to get him some iron supplements, cook in cast iron, have him eat liver, that sort of thing, blood should not taste like this.” She spat another gob into the cloth.

“You seem really aces about blood for a dame.”

“Protip, never end a sentence with ‘for a dame’.  We don’t like it.  And I guarantee you I’ve seen more blood than the average Joe Shmoe my age.  The idiot I’m hi-jacking and you aside, most men don’t see more than shaving nicks and skinned knees.  I do all that _and_ my monthly subscription to Satan’s waterfall.  I woke up in a pool of my own blood once and my only concern was whether or not I’d remembered to switch the sheets.”

“That’s fair.  Walk you home?”

“Sure, I got no idea where he lives anyway.  I’m not a New Yorker either.”

“I’ll get you home.”

<^>

Steve swapped out as a dozen guys were cornering him.  Apparently he’d disrespected someone’s girl by offering her a chance to get away from a guy who made her clearly uncomfortable.  He didn’t think that qualified, but as he felt the switch he tried to slow it down.  He didn’t want Darcy to have to deal with all these guys.  But he snapped into her body as an older woman opened a door.  He was kneeling and there was a statue of a goose, dressed in a print dress and a bonnet next to him.  Weird.

“I take it you’re Steve,” the older woman said.  “Come on in.”

He spent a long time talking with Mrs. Bahrenburg about the swaps.  Her whole line, mothers to daughters back so far she kept some of the journals in sealed boxes.  He thought the journals were really keen, and told her so, and she had him draw pictures to go in Darcy’s journal.  She also gave him a small notebook and a pencil to write with, so he could leave Darcy a message.

_Dear Miss Lewis (or would you prefer Darcy?)_

_This is Steven G. Rogers writing to thank you.  Apparently you’ve saved my life twice now, and probably will keep doing so until I do whatever I needed to do.  That’s a real swell thing of you, even if you don’t have much choice in the matter.  I’ll try to get in fewer fights, but if someone’s being a bully, I can’t just say nothing, you know?_

_Your grandmother’s a real kippy lady, with lots of juicy stories.  Oh, she just told me you don’t use those words like that.  She’s a neat woman with lots of interesting stories.  And she said that me and you’re the same age!  Of course you knew that, it’s how this works.  Sorry, I’m not good talking with pretty dames, even if I am a pretty dame at the time.  Or you are, but I’m in you, oh.  Sorry, that probably sounded bad.  What I mean is, I really like getting to know about all this, and I’m glad I won’t get my block knocked off until I do the important thing.  I hope it’s real big to make up for you having to do my hitting.  Oh, and Bucky, James, he’s a big flirt (you probably noticed, since now he knows you’re a tomato, I saw him looking at the picture I drew of you) but don’t let that make you think he’s all wet (a bad person), he’s a swell friend to have.  I’ll try to get a book like this so you can write me too._

_All the best,_

_Steve Rogers_

_P.S. What’s the color of this nail paint?  It’s real pretty._

He felt a little rush in his heart and dropped the pencil.

“You going now, dear?” asked Mrs. Bahrenburg.

“I think so, will you ask Darcy to try and write me the recipe for those cookies you made?”

“Of course, Steven.  Darcy’s very lucky to have a nice young man like you for a swap.”

Then he was in his home with his bare feet in Buck’s lap.

<^>

Bucky took his time with Darcy, giving her a chance to talk to him, rant really, but it wasn’t too different from Steve’s rants about women being people too and respect, although she also added in queers, and when she said it, the word didn’t sound like a filthy sinner’s choice.  She said it like you’d say blonde.  Just a part of who a person might be.  It didn’t even faze him when she put her feet on his lap.  He just undid the laces and started rubbing them.

“So why do you think you’re still here?  Not that you’re not good company, Doll.”

“Maybe Steve needs to do something in my body as much as I needed to keep his skinny ass alive.  If he’s busy, you know, he might not switch back until he’s done.  And I left him with Grandma, so he’s not in danger of anything but a headache trying to understand this.  Why?  You worried?”

“He’s a walking disaster.  I’m always worried.  My tombstone is gonna read ‘Here lies James Barnes, dead tragically young of worry.’  I guess if he was going to get killed on your side, you’d switch back, though.”

“Yup.  But maybe you miss him for another reason.”

“What?”

“I’m young, not blind.  I’ve had enough guys ogle me over the years to know what a dude who is ass over teakettle in l-o-v-e looks like.  You think _I’m_ hot, but you want to get heavy with _him_.  And much as I’d say yes to kissing you, hot-stuff, not while I’m piloting your crush’s body.  That’s a level of weird I don’t want to touch.  I think I feel the swap coming, so I’ll say goodbye for now.  Remember, cast iron, liver, and see if you can get him on those garlic and honey treatments for the asthma, and the coffee, oh and eucalyptus oil or bishops weed in steam if you can get it.  Take care of the lungs and it should help with the chronic infections.”

“I’ll remember.”

“Buck?”

“Hey Steve, welcome back.  You busy over there or something?”

“Yeah.  Darcy’s Grandmother, Mrs. Bahrenburg was teaching me how it works.  And I wrote her a letter.  Darcy, that is.  I was hoping I could get some paper and a pencil stub so she can write back.  I’m not real likely to stay out of fights, and I never know which ones might need Darcy, so I figure, and Mrs. Bahrenburg figures, we’ll keep swapping for a while.  The first ones tend to match ages, but if we become long time swappers, that might change, it’s more to do with need and maturity later.  So I want to get to know her.”

“Makes sense.  She’s a snazzy fuss if you can get her.”

“She ain’t mine, Buck, she’s her own.  And I don’t ever meet her.”

“She’s still snazzy, and what’s more of a guy’s devoted dame than the one who literally breaks physics to bail him out of a fight he can’t handle, and does it without makin’ him look like a crumb?”

“One I can talk to.”

“Steve, I’m your friend.  But there ain’t a woman under eighty and over eight you can talk to that well.  We’ll get you a letter book.  Maybe you can write back in it so she can read what you wrote.”

“I got one on her side.  I’ll see what she thinks.  Thanks for not thinking I lost it, Bucky.”

“Pal, if you lost your marbles, I’d dump mine in the east river, cause it ain’t worth keeping my mind if you don’t have yours.  I’d rather be loony together.”

“Thanks.”  Steve leaned against him, and Bucky wondered if Darcy was right.  He liked her, and the picture was definitely a dish, but hot as she was, he kinda loved Steve in ways he’d never talk about at the docks.  So he just let Steve cuddle him for warmth.  He could think on it later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slang Translations:  
> Punk- the equivalent of twink, a term for an effeminate gay man.  
> Clean the kitchen- anal rimming  
> Tomato- hot woman  
> Aces- good with, relaxed about  
> Snazzy- very good  
> Fuss- a steady girlfriend  
> Crumb- a loser socially  
> Dish- hot woman
> 
>  
> 
> Teaser:
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Well, it couldn’t always be cute kids and nice grandmas, could it. A loud whirring sound caught him off guard and he slammed into the wall when he startled. “Ow.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy makes a new friend.
> 
> Steve encounters one she'd already made.
> 
> And Bucky is finally accepting the fact his life has been hitting him with a Clue-by-Four.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG and the love keeps pouring in.  
> This one is for mouseymightymarvellous, thelostphoenix, Notashamed, jeannobeanno, Aderendal, SailorRoxy, racecz5, Shadows_of_Shemai, merrysoul, SionnachOiche3 and ErisDea. Oh, and the other FIFTY EIGHT people who kudo'd this work since my last update. Not even 24 hours ago. Nice.

The third time they swapped, Darcy had to fake food poisoning to get out of a test.  Feeling the gut punch helped her sell it, because she really did feel sick from that.  She got to the bathroom, locked herself in a stall, and pulled out the little notebook Grandma gave Steve.  Quickly she scribbled a note for him braced against the wall and let herself fall.

School hallway, that was new.  She’d turned seventeen about a week after the last swap, and from the weather during that swap, this might be the start of a new school year for him.  Depending on the day he was born, Junior or Senior year.  Whelp, it was familiar territory at least.  She saw his pencils on the ground beside her.  Nope, nothing doing, she was pissed as she looked up at a guy who wasn’t that much bigger than Steve, but obviously in better health.  Of course, that was a low bar.  That was a bar inset into the ground.

“Yah gonna make a big deal, now Rogers?  Gonna go cry to yah momma?  Oh, right, yah don’t have a momma.”  Ok, this dick made the previously sexy southern accent sound bad.  She was ready to end him.

“Steve, don’t, it’s not worth it,” said a tiny girl, smaller than Darcy and thin too.  Her voice quivered in the way universally known to women as ‘I don’t want to have him angry at me, but I do want him gone’.

“By ‘it’s not worth it’ do you mean _you_ aren’t worth it?  Because I beg to differ.  You’re worth it.  Worth the time, the effort, the love and care you deserve to have for yourself as a person who matters.  He isn’t.  Either worth it, or a person who matters.”

“Oh, them’s fightin’ words, Rogers.”

“Good thing Ah brought mah fightin’ hands then, _Tex_.  Now put ‘em up or shut up,” she drawled in a bad copy of his accent.

The fight was swift and brutal.  Tex obviously knew what he was doing when it came to a brawl, but Darcy was a scrapper, a down and dirty ‘take all the pot shots’ and ‘no holds barred’ fighting _bitch_.  She could do proper forms for competitions, but she shone in fights with no points.  Also, Tex had no clue how to handle a judo fighter who trained southpaw.  All his openings were on her stronger side.  She took one hit to her right shoulder that popped it out of joint only to uppercut him with a slight left cross that twisted and knocked his head back.  He crumpled.

“Heya,” she said to the wide-eyed girl.  “Can ya help me put this back?  I need my elbow at a 90-degree angle when I do the rotation.”

The girl moved to help her, Darcy held back a hiss at the gentle movement.  “I’m Angela.  You might not know me; I think we only have math together.”

“Nice to meetcha, Angie, name’s Steve.  Oh, ya already knew that, ya said it, sorry.  Alright now hold it like that, even if I sound like a dying cat.”

Angie giggled, and Darcy rotated her body until the pop of the humeral head returning to the socket reverberated through her body.  “Thanks, Angie.  I’m good now.”

“Well, that was real swell of ya, Mister Steve Rogers.  You takin’ on a tough like him.”

“Eh,” Darcy shrugged with her good arm.  “It’s all math, biology, and lots of practice.  Force is mass times velocity, so if you’re a shrimp like me ya get fast to make up for it.  The neck is the least protected part of the spine, which controls the body, and the head makes a good lever, so ya hit up under the chin to give ‘em whiplash.  Do it right, and it’s a nap tap, out like a light.  Also, aim for the goodies if you get cornered.”

“The… goodies?”

“The thangs, the ol’ dingle dangle, the twig and berries, the crotch.  Trust me, it lays ‘em flatter’n Kansas.”

“Oh!” Angie said in dawning realization.  “I guess I wasn’t ever supposed to think about… that.”

“Oh, sweet summer child,” Darcy said with sincerity.  “Most problems in the world are caused by men.  Therefore, most problems can be solved by hitting the right mark on a man.  Kick ‘em where it hurts and run is a good option, so is bursting into big tears and hysterics.  No idea how to handle that, most of ‘em, throws ‘em off.  Use this knowledge wisely, grasshopper.”

“You don’t really talk like a fella, Steve.  No offence.”  Darcy realized she’d been advising like another woman would.  She turned to Bucky’s stories for an excuse.

“Single Ma, Dad died before I was born, it affects things.  Can you help me put these back in spectrum order?  Reds on one side, violets on the other?  I can’t see colors.”

“Oh, sure, Steve.  How’dya draw so good if ya can’t see?”

“A shape is a shape, and I got a friend who helps me with what colors go where.  Here he comes, actually.  Hey, Bucky!”

“Steve,” he smiled at her and Darcy reconfirmed her ass over teakettle assessment.  “You alright?  I heard there was a…” he trailed off looking at Tex.

“We had a bit of a Code Darcy, if ya know what I’m sayin’,” Darcy said.  “This’s Angie.  Angie, that’s trouble, also known as James.”

“I’m Bucky to my friends,” he said, shooting Darcy a look.

“You two look like you’ll be fine without me, so, I think I’m going to track some ice down for my shoulder.  See ya ‘round.”  Darcy turned and walked off, pulling out the book of notes.

**Ice your shoulder, Steve, I had to let it get dislocated.  Southern Accent Guy, I called him Tex, really knows his boxing.  Also I think I may have set you up as an Equal Rights Activist.  Women being fully functional human beings is a hot-button for me.  BTW (by the way) that Angela girl is cute, I called her Angie, you may want to stick with that.  Of course depending on how deep JBB is in that river in Egypt, he might be asking her out.  Dunno.  :(** **Your pencils are now in spectrum order, red to the left, violet on the far right.**

**Darcy**

**P.S. It’s not paint, it’s not even polish; it’s _lacquer_ you heathen.  Note the shine.  And the color is Sunset Rose.  It’s partway between bright pink and soft orange.**

**P.P.S. One part melted butter, two parts sugar, four parts flour, splash of vanilla extract, and one egg per tablespoon of butter.  Chocolate chips, dried fruit, or nuts if you got ‘em and can eat them.  Mix well, bake.  They’ll look shiny, so test them with a skewer or something to make sure they aren’t goopy inside.**

<^>

Steve swapped out as his pencils got knocked to the ground.  His painstakingly ordered pencils for his art.  “Dammit!” he swore as he felt Darcy’s body curled in a spot between a tiled wall and a toilet.  Well, it couldn’t always be cute kids and nice grandmas, could it.  A loud whirring sound caught him off guard and he slammed into the wall when he startled.  “Ow.”   The whirring noise turned off and a soft voice spoke.  "What was that?"

"Think it was Lewis, she ran in and took the far stall," said a second voice that sounded like it's owner was leaving, and, yeah, door opens and closes.

"Darcy?"  He didn't respond to the girl's voice.  “Yo, Double D, you alright in there?”

“Excuse me?” he asked, somehow both confused and affronted.  And upset, because he was obviously in the _girl's bathroom_.

“Darce, you can’t fake food poisoning every time there’s a grammar test,” the girl continued.  “Is it Dom?  Is he cheating off you again?  I told you, just use that kung-fu shit on him.”

“It…it’s judo,” Steve stammered.  Of course Darcy would be in the girl’s room, she was a girl.  Only Steve had no clue with women, at all.  This had been a topic of great debate with him and Buck.

“Hah!  You didn’t say no on moral grounds.  I’m making progress.”

“Well, it would also be morally wrong, seeing as how I can take down an angry seven-foot-tall bull-wrestler.  I might accidentally kill the guy!”

“You can? When did you do that?  It wasn’t one of your matches, I go to those.”

“Eh… there was an alley and a skinny boy about to die?” he offered vaguely.

“Oh, Darce, I really don’t get you.  Jumping in to save people you don’t know.  You’ve been like this since we were five, you know, and not once has it made any sense.”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t fight if it was me getting my face paved?” he asked.  This was obviously Darcy’s Bucky, which was easier to handle.  Only her Bucky didn’t seem to be waffling between dizzy over her and just a pal.

“Well, duh, if it was _you_ , I’d claw their faces off and rip their jugulars out with my teeth.  Or, you know, call the cops, since I’m not Xena the Warrior Princess like you.”

“Yeah, well I guess if I spend it all a little bit here and there, I don’t commit murder when you get a bully.”

“No, you just ruin his life.”  Steve could hear the smile.  “So, you coming out or what, Double D?”

“I actually don’t feel like myself, it wasn’t that much of a fib.”

“Seriously?  You didn’t eat the caf food did you?  Wait, no, you have second lunch.  Do not, I repeat, do NOT eat the caf food today, stroganoff, more like stroga-stop.  Is your cycle early?  I have Midol.”

Steve looked at the note she’d written. **When in doubt blame your menstrual cycle.**

“Yeah, it’s early I think.”

“Ech, I know that one.  Here’s the Midol.”  A slim dark hand reached under the door to pass him a pair of white pills.  “You got flow yet, or just cramps, because I have spare Tampax if you need it.”

“Um, just cramps.”

“Cool.  You wanna hear the stupid shit that Jan got into in first lunch?”

“Sure thing, but, um, no promises I’ll remember it.”

“That bad, huh?  Get your gyno to look at PMDD.  Anyway, Jan said the dumbest thing, only since it was Jan, everybody got like two minutes into the rest of the conversation before realizing what she said made sense, and then….”

Steve let her talk and wrote Darcy another letter.

_Dear Miss Lewis,_

_Thanks again for taking this kind of thing, must be a real big deal for your family, you going off to save me.  I guess I better do something important with my life now.  Or I already did, or you wouldn’t be swapping places with me.  Either way, I won’t let you down._

_Your friend is nice.  She wants you to beat up a guy named Dom, and I may have told her you shouldn’t because you took down Mac, who wrestles bulls.  Then I had to explain you did that in an alley, because a skinny stick boy was about to die.  I left out the time-traveling body-swapping part.  She says not to eat the ‘caf food’, whatever that is.  Also, I took your advice and she gave me Midol.  I’m putting the pills in your left pocket.  Do you always wear pants?  I’ve seen you in the white uniform ones, and twice in these blue ones.  I hope dames, women, don’t stop wearing dresses.  They’re pretty.  But I guess trousers are easier to move in.  I suppose by the time you start wearing them, I’ll be old enough not to care._

_Your Swap,_

_Steve Rogers_

_P.S. Did you say anything to Bucky about him being not all about dames?  Because he said you talked about queer folks just being folks, which, I live in Brooklyn, it does not shock me, this news.  But now he’s extra invested in acting like even more of a flirt.  Which means double dates.  I hate those._

<^>

Bucky thought Darcy handled being caught as Steve in public pretty well.  Code Darcy was a fantastic way of saying that without it sounding insane.  He chatted up Miss Angela Martinelli for a bit, got a date for that Friday with her and a friend and Steve.  Who had returned, obviously himself, with a re-purposed hot water bottle on his shoulder.

“Hello Angie,” he said shyly.

“Well, if it ain’t my knight in shinin’ armor.  Hope you don’t mind, but me an’ your pal here made plans for the three of us and my friend Suzie to go out to Coney Island this weekend. I hear Luna’s gonna re-open the Cyclone, even though that guy fell off it a year ago.”

“Uh, sounds really keen.  I gotta get to class.”

“He’s shy,” Bucky explained.

“Wasn’t earlier,” Angela said.  “I don’t think he wants to ride the Cyclone.”

“That was the fight, he sometimes gets a boost after getting to drop a guy.  Not that he’s violent or nothin’, it just doesn’t happen often, so it’s a rush.”

“I think you’re havin’ me on, Mister.  Friday, after school, you can try to make it up to me.”  She patted his chest and walked off.

Later he caught up with Steve, who was headed home alone.  Which was insane given the number of dangers a guy like him could get mixed up in, especially with his inability to walk away from a bully.  The whole reason Bucky took his lunch break at the school was to check up on him and make sure Steve wouldn’t be leaving late or early or nothin’.

“Hey, Steve, wait up, pal.  You know it takes a little for me to get from the mechanic to the school.”

“Yeah, I know.  Just like you know I can’t go on the Cyclone.  A guy _died_ on the Cyclone, Buck.  And Darcy’s not gonna make it safer.  I gotta keep my head down until I get the thing done.”

“Like you kept your head down with Holt?”

“I don’t control the swaps.”

“Fine, that gang back in July.  You keeping your head down then?  Steve, there’s a difference between surviving and living.  Go on the date with the pretty girl, ride the coaster.  Live.”

“Alright, but if I throw up, I’m aiming at you.”

“Atta boy, come on Steve, Darcy did most of the work, you can get Angie on your arm in no time.”  Bucky tried to ignore the warmth in his chest as he put an arm on Steve’s shoulder.  He was just happy this double date wouldn’t ignore Steve, right?  Right?  No, he was hosed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slang Translations:  
> A tough- a bully, particularly a strong arming one  
> Dizzy over- super in love with  
> Pal- friend, and NOT in the 'gals being pals' way.  
> Having me on- lying to me as a joke  
> Hosed- done for
> 
> Historical notes:  
> Bull-wrestlers really existed in New York. In fact, wrestling with livestock was a common show of strength in port cities with a large number of dock workers angling for better pay. The larger the animal, the stronger you were, wrestling a bull indicated vastly superior strength and could get you much better wages.
> 
> EDIT: In Steve's era, Brooklyn was THE gay area of New York. It had the highest concentration of gay bars, dance-halls, drag shows and hotels that catered to the out-of-town same-sex lovers of any district in the state. It would be the Eastern Seaboard, but Atlantic City, New Jersey had an area that just barely tipped the line on hotels and drag cabarets into superiority.
> 
> Luna is the park on Coney Island that had the famous Cyclone that gets referenced in CA:TFA. Many deaths are attributed to it, although fire wiped out many records.
> 
>  
> 
> And yes, before you ask, it is THAT Angela Martinelli.
> 
> Teaser Alert:
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> “I’m saying I think dumb luck and friendly intervention were the only things keeping the moron alive.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The swaps continue, and Darcy starts pulling on some dangerous strings.
> 
> Steve learns more, and helps Darcy with a problem in her own life.
> 
> Bucky is just worried about his two reckless loves getting in too deep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. All I can say, wow. The response on this is amazing. It's never the stuff I think will take off that does. Anyway, dedications:  
> LewStonewar, SionnachOiche3, -, Megan, GrumpyToaster13, Notashamed, racecz5, Pen37, Shadows_of_Shemai, aquadrop25, mouseymightymarvellous, Elisa, Joey99, and tigrislilium for comments and also to the FIFTY ONE new kudo-ers. Since yesterday. Dear Lord. You guys are going to make this fic out-strip Code Screaming Eagle and I didn't think that was possible. Although I'm glad, the crack that was CSE was not exactly what I wanted to be remembered for.

Darcy swapped with Steve some more.  Fights, mostly, one when she was in the locker room after practice and Steve almost tripped on some stairs.  Her message was short.  **I won’t tell him you almost got killed by stairs if you NEVER draw anything you saw.**

Then she was in History class, AP, she’d decided she had a vested interest and got serious about it, and saw him.  Steve, smiling up from her history book.  As Captain fucking America.  And James was right beside him.  She read the entire chapter on the war in five minutes while the teacher talked about Pearl Harbor, skimming until she found more on Steve’s unit, the Howling Commandos.  All POWs except Steve.  Equipped by Howard Stark directly.  Commanded by Chester Phillips, then Colonel, promoted to General after the war.  Barnes gave his life in the line of duty, shortly followed by Captain Rogers who downed a plane to prevent the war from reaching American shores.  She felt sick.  That’s what she was saving his life for.  So he could die.  What if he downed the plane thinking she’d come for him, save him somehow?

“Ms. Lewis, is there something you find particularly fascinating about this topic?” Dr. Grayson asked her.  He meant ‘why the fuck are you staring at your book like it killed your puppy’ but Darcy answered him honestly.  Mostly.

“Steve Rogers.  He volunteered for a human genetic potential experiment, first of its kind and never duplicated, _risking his life_ , then he gets shunted into the propaganda mill.  Instead of staying safe there, he risks his life _again_ to cross enemy lines to bring back over 400 POWs, including his best friend.  Then he takes a group of these POWs, again, including his best friend, and launches one of the more successful strike teams, risking his life _countless times_.  Then his best friend dies, and only days later, Steve flies a plane into the ground.  It says ‘heroic sacrifice’ in our book.  I think it was more.  Guy risks his life every chance it was possible, that’s not a lead up to a heroic sacrifice, that’s a man who needs some freaking Prozac.”

Dr. Grayson blinked at her.  “Are you saying you think Captain Rogers, the man known as Captain America, willfully committed suicide?”

“I’m saying I think dumb luck and friendly intervention were the only things keeping the moron alive.”

“Ms. Lewis, please see me after school is out.  In the meantime, please focus on the mechanical advances of WWII.”

After class Dr. Grayson assigned her mandatory extra credit.  He did that.  Both a punishment and a reward for the brighter kids.  She was to research WWII and the Howling Commandos and write a ten-page paper on the psychological make-up of the group.

Darcy did that.  Not only with books but by digging up records of how the Howlies left alive lived after the war.  She got a grumpy old guy on the phone, Dugan, also called Dum-Dum, because he hated his real name.  She didn’t blame him. Timothy Aloysius Cadwallader Dugan was a horrible name and his parents should be ashamed.  Dugan was maybe six kinds of crazy and paranoid, setting up signs and counter-signs for their talks.  She tried to talk around her knowledge of Steve and James, and she noticed him talking around something too, but she didn’t know what.  He genuinely believed that Hydra hadn’t died with Johann Schmidt and Steve going down on that plane, but that was only part of it.  He also felt his life was in danger.  It was.  Her last contact with him, he said something about Carter, and getting her a message, and then, he broke an unspoken rule.

“Darcy, when you can, when it matters, you tell that Irish mother’s son he ain’t allowed to die.  Only person Cap ever took orders from was you, so you tell him he can’t die until all of us are down.  _All_ of us.  Because I swear the guy what just took out my cameras is that same dumb sunova who fell off a---”  A thump came over the line and Darcy held her breath as the static resolved into a soft conversation.  The line was picked up.  “Kukly, leave it.”  Then he hung up.  It had sounded… like James.  This was too big.  She wrote her paper, handed it in and tried to forget.

<^>

Steve noticed some changes.  When they swapped, he was more and more often in private, or with Dracy’s grandmother.  When he swapped into her room, there were yellow sticky notes explaining things on stuff per usual, but now there were vivid pink ones warning him away from things.  The history book and the sleek future tech stuff he understood.  He should avoid learning specifics about the future so he didn’t go back and disrupt the past, his present.  The red file folder, he understood less.  She did leave him with presents, sometimes, color wheels and books on color theory and once a big binder of paint colors for him to look at.  Sometimes he left her drawings, since she left out art pencils and a nice sketch pad with a note reading ‘Go for it!’ with a little squiggle he thought was an artist’s pallet.  He drew pictures of her room, and the view out her window and sometimes he drew her, making faces in her mirror to make a study of her face.  They continued to write, and sometimes she’d leave recipes for him, for cookies or bread, or for nicer foods made with stuff they could get.  Mashed potatoes with beef gravy was much better than simple boiled potatoes, and the gravy could be made with scrap beef that didn’t cost much.  Some of her directions were odd, but they ended well.

That didn’t stop him worrying about the red file folder, how it kept getting thicker.  Or how he noticed dark smudges under her eyes when he drew her.  He sometimes just slept when they switched, since he wasn’t sure she had been, and her body needed to.  One day he noticed a red-marked sheet on her desk when he sat to draw.  Homework.  Chemistry.  He knew some of that from school, or from Bucky talking about mechanics.  So he grabbed the book she was working from and read the section they were studying.  He always had a good memory, so he used it to remember her book as he looked at the paper again.  He snagged a blue pen and a bit of the lined paper she used for school stuff and wrote down the answers, then used Bohr diagrams and Lewis structures (which he did tease her about) to illustrate it for her.  When he looked at the teacher’s notes that were obviously wrong when Darcy had gotten it right, he decided he didn’t care for the man, and used a page of the sketch pad to draw a comic about how acids work that ended in the teacher melting into a puddle with the ending lines _Thompson was a Chemist Prof, But Thompson sadly is no more, For what he thought was H2O, Was H2SO4._

His next swap, she had left him a box of candies with a note.   **Thompson was teaching perv, But they took him away, For what he thought was sexual leverage, Was proof that saved the day.  Thanks Steve.**   Steve laughed at her funny flippant response to what had to have been horrible.  Then he promptly made himself sick on banana laffy taffy and green apple jolly ranchers.  He left a neatly re-wrapped blue one on a sticky note of his own _What even was that???_  He reflected he was picking up her way of using words as he came to in a tub of cold water.

“The hell, Bucky!”

<^>

Bucky noticed the tensions Steve mentioned in the way Darcy moved, in the way she spoke.  He still was pulling her out of alleys and parking lots and all the normal places Steve fought.  She was slowly, very slowly, given their time, teaching him things.  She taught him the physics of taking down a bigger man to teach Steve, but she also taught him trajectory calculations and trigonometry.  She quizzed him too, so he was forced into the library to learn more.  He picked it up fast, but he had no idea why she thought he needed it.

One time, he thought maybe he and Darcy had been too late, because Steve was out on the ground, but Darcy clawed her way up the side of the diner while Bucky dispatched the thugs.

“You ok, Dollface?”

“Be better if you stop grabbing my words.  Talk like you’re meant to, jerk.”

“Alright, but what do we do here?  I don’t think I’ve seen this much damage on you before.  Or on him.”

“Ice, it’s mostly bruising, icing it will limit swelling and lower pain.”

“If you say so.  I usually try to keep him away from cold.”

“It’s May, he should be fine if you dry him off with heated towels and I don’t get his hair wet.  Icing isn’t fun, but it helps.”

“You sure you want to?”

“I iced after a bad slide to home in a softball game.  And after lacrosse try-outs.  Field hockey girls are fucking savage.  But, I’ve done this before.  I can handle it.”

They got Darcy home and in frigid water to her neck.  She quizzed him more on trig and traj, as she called it.  This time she tossed in questions involving air currents and Bucky got a bad feeling she knew something about him he didn’t.  Was he going to become a famous trigger man?  He didn’t think he would, but if Steve got sick, nothing Darcy did could make him well, and he might take that kind of job to get medicine.  Of course, she’d warned him about laudanum and other opiates and heroine and things that you found in medicine.  She’d told him how to grow his own penicillin instead.  He fed her noodles with scrap meats and discount onions, garlic and ginger root with the dark or mushy bits cut off, a recipe she had him go all the way to Little China to get the noodles for, but was very filling on not much cash.  And the woman who made the Udon noodles liked him, so he also got seasoning packets.  Darcy ate and then fell asleep with Bucky holding Steve’s head up.  When he came around, Bucky was ready with towels from in front of the stove.  After lodging many protests about the cold water, Steve gave in when Bucky poked a bruise.

“Darce said the cold will help.  Now shut up and get dry and into clean stuff.”

“Fine.  Oh, did Darcy say anything about a teacher skeeving on her?”

“No, she in trouble?”

“Not anymore.  She got him arrested for trying to make her grades bad so she’d, y’know.”

“What a creep!  I oughta… but the time difference,” he finished sadly.

“I know, but Darcy is kick ass, and she handled it.  And gave me a bunch of sweets because me showing her work as good helped her case, I think.  Future candy is amazing, Buck.  Except the blue.  I don’t know what it was supposed to be, but it was awful.  Wish I could have brought you some.”

“Well, I guess we just gotta live to be a hundred and eat it then.”

“Yeah.”  Bucky knew Steve was worried.  He’d share it on his own time, like he had with the exhaustion and the fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slang Translations:  
> Trigger man- a gun-for-hire, a mercenary, or the designated shooter in a gang or the Mafia  
> Skeeving- coercing sex, usually from a position of power like a teacher, boss or priest  
> Creep- an extreme sexual deviant. Essentially a sex-crimes offender or a suspected or potential one.
> 
> Other Translations:  
> Kukly (Russian): Doll
> 
> Historical notes:  
> The banana laffy taffy does taste the same as the banana breed Steve is used to. That flavoring uses a chemical that is really easy to work with and is common to all bananas. HOWEVER, the Gros Michel banana had way more of that chemical and not a lot of other thing making up it's flavor profile, while the Cavendish (what we, except for certain areas of Asia, think of as a normal banana) has less of that chemical and a bunch of other, harder to work with chemical making its flavor. So, because food scientists are lazy, banana candy today still tastes much more like a Gros Michel than a Cavendish, even though we stopped importing them (again exceptions in areas of China and Japan) in the 1960's. This will also be noted later when Steve first encounters a modern American banana.
> 
> Steve does not like the blue raspberry jolly rancher because although he is not asthmatic in Darcy's body, most of his sense-memory is from when he is asthmatic and the dye, Brilliant Blue FCF, causes allergic reactions in people with certain, more pernicious types of asthma. He could eat a real blue raspberry (they do exist, they just aren't that color, they look like black raspberries with blue undertones) and be fine, but since Brilliant Blue FCF was in use in the 30's, he associates the slight flavor of it with sudden lack of air.
> 
> Teaser Alert:
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> “YOU READ HER DIARY?!? Lord, Steve, you NEVER do that.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy messes with the swap capabilities, gets into college, drinks a rufie and sings timeline inappropriate acapella.
> 
> Steve has an accidental run in with historical texts and a rude awakening to both his future and his present.
> 
> Bucky would just like his reckless assholes to be less fucking suicidal for once, please.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, the mass outpouring of continued love. To pianobookworm, persephonelove, Aewnaur, tornflames, Cocopuffiens, aquadrop25, RansLover, SailorRoxy, Pen37, halfelf87, RabidDustBunny, Squirrel_Stone, SionnachOiche3, fanaticreader16, tigrislilium, mouseymightymarvellous, Aderendal, brinikkisaurus, Joey99, Shadows_of_Shemai, kristy1452, Iffi, CupKatyCakes, BloodElf, Notashamed, racecz5, SerialObsessor (DlStar71), and all 50 new kudo-ers.  
> Also, you guys have made this my most second most commented and kudo'd work, and right up there with a 57,505 word epic and the crack fic that almost broke my email-alerts. I'M NOT EVEN TO THE WAR GUYS!!

Darcy made it through graduation, moving to senior competitive levels and another two belt ranks like she had every year since signing up.  All her work on the Howlies went in the red folder and later in a red binder.  She stuck a hair across the opening with spit so she knew Steve wasn’t opening it.  She got so good at pin-pointing when she’d swap that she hardly ever had to fake getting sick to get away from class.  A bathroom pass, and then she could walk slowly to the bathroom, lock herself in a stall and swap if need be.  She kept her letter notebook and a folded up Sudoku page in her pocket at all times.  It was awkward when she had to swap during a ball game, but she faked PMS to avoid it and stayed home.  Together, she and Bucky worked to keep Steve alive and she and Steve worked on swaps.  He could call on her and let her see but not swap.  She watched more than one movie that way, from Bride of Frankenstein to Anna Karenina, which she had to repress her memory of the accented voice on Dum-Dum’s line to watch, to Captain Blood.  She took him to RENT, and watched the Pirates of the Caribbean movies with him, one at home and one in theaters.

She declared History, with a Political Science Minor the second she got into Culver.  Her plan was to run through as fast as she could before she started linking with Steve during the second world war.  It was kind of ambitious to attempt an actual four year Bachelors, but it was worth it to her.  More sticky notes went on her history books.  Her dorm roomie was a big partier, so she wasn’t in their room when Darcy swapped as much as the three of them had worried.  Darcy had note-coached Steve on looking super invested in school work in case.  She still laid out the guys that attacked Steve, but now that she was junior fourth class it was easier to do it quickly and harder to do it without severely harming them.

She drew Steve into study sessions now and then, especially on her Constitutional History class.  He pulled her into art classes so she could help him with coloring.  They didn’t do that often, looking up color names and swatches with her eyes while watching him mix hurt her head.  Instead she queued up every Bob Ross episode in one playlist and showed him how to use it while she handled stuff on his side.  Then came the day he called her _before_ getting himself in a fight.

She was watching yesterday’s episode of Chuck on the network’s site and trying not to think about the paper on WWII she was supposed to write, and then she was watching a guy slip something in a girl’s drink.  _Swap_ , she thought.  _What I thought_ , Steve thought.  Then she was in Steve’s body.  She walked briskly to the counter, and grabbed the tainted glass out of the girl’s hand.

“Sorry, lady, you don’t want this one.  I’ll get you a replacement.  One with less Micky in it.”

“What?” she gasped.

“Your date here, he doped it.  A regular Micky Finn, this guy.”

“I did no such thing,” the man protested as the bar patrons watched the scene.

“Suuure ya didn’t.  A real upstanding citizen, you are.  You’d never drug some poor woman so ya could get what she wouldn’t hand ya.”

“You have no proof!”  The man was red and shouting.  Silently apologizing to Steve, Darcy looked at the barkeep.

“If I pass out, get James Buchanan Barnes to take me.  Tell him I called a ‘Code Darcy’.”  She waited for him to nod and slugged back the drink.  Moderately better than the frat house tub juice she’d let her roomie talk her into.  Then she felt the effects, the giddy rush as the drugger gaped at her in disbelief.  A giggle escaped her.  He was sooo screwed.  She wanted to sing.  Hey, why not?

“Oh Micky, you're so fine  
You're so fine you blow my mind, hey Micky,  
Hey, hey Micky

Oh Micky, you're so fine  
You're so fine you blow my mind, hey Micky,

Hey Micky!  
You've been around all night and that's a little long  
You think you've got the right but I think you've got it wrong  
Why can't you say goodnight so I can just go home, Micky

'Cause when you say you will, it always means you won't  
You're givin' me the chills, baby, please baby don't  
Every night you still leave me all alone, Micky

Oh Micky, what a pity you don't understand  
You gotta take me by the heart before you take me by the hand  
Oh Micky, you're so pretty, can't you understand  
It's guys like you Micky  
Oh, what you do Micky, do Micky  
You break my heart, Micky

Hey Micky!  
Now when you take me by the hooves everyone's gonna know  
Every time you move people are just looking for a show  
There's somethin' we can use, so just say no, Micky

So you wanna give it to me any way you can  
Any way you wanna do it, so I'll treat you like a man  
Oh please, baby, please, don't leave me in a jam, Micky

Oh Micky, what a pity you don't understand  
Take me by the heart before you take me by the hand  
Oh Micky, you're so pretty, can't you understand  
It's guys like you Micky  
Oh, what you do Micky, do Micky  
Just breaks my heart, Micky

Oh Micky, you're so fine  
You're so fine you blow my mind, hey Micky  
Hey Micky

Oh Micky, you're so fine  
You're so fine you blow my mind, hey Micky  
Hey Micky

Oh Micky, what a pity you don't understand  
If you won’t take me by the heart then don’t take me by the hand  
Oh Micky, you're so pretty, can't you understand  
It's guys like you Micky….” She trailed off on a high note as Bucky swept her up in his arms.

“What the devil did you drink, you loon?”

“A Micky Finn,” the bartender supplied.  “Guy said he didn’t do it, so your buddy chugged it.  Then did, whatever that was.”

“A Code Darcy.  For the insanely stupid but somehow right thing being done because he thinks he’s immortal.  Or doomed to die young, so he’d better make it count.  I can’t tell.”

<^>

Steve pulled in Darcy because he didn’t know how to protect the dame _and_ hit the louse who drugged her.  When he swapped he hit the pause button on her computer.  The show was a favorite and came on during a class she had to be in, so she used the website to watch it the next day.  He didn’t want her missing it.

He yawned and contemplated a nap, Darcy was pushing herself with the class load and he didn’t know why.  Then her roommate, Candi, with an ‘i’ at the end, came home and he grabbed the nearest book.  History.  Damn.  But he had to look engrossed.

“You are such a nerd, Lewis,” Candi said, and not affectionately.  Steve dug further into the book.  Oh God.  World War TWO?  Wasn’t one enough?  Wasn’t that why they fought the last one?  To end war?  Hitler, expansionist Germany, Fascist Italy, Japan bombing the Navy.  He flipped pages quickly.  The camps.  There were pictures of camps, one for Japanese Americans, one for German Jews.  They looked the same.  He felt sick, but kept reading.  He turned the page and saw Bucky.  The tall blond man beside him in the stupid outfit.  He shut the book and looked up.  Candi was looking at him with a worried look, her hairbrush halfway through the bright pink strands as she paused to stare.  He absently noted she would look better with purple.

“Have, um, have you seen the red binder?”

“The obsessive binder of supreme secrecy?  Under your bed like always, Lewis.  Seriously Darcy, you look like you saw a ghost.”

“I feel like I did.  It’s just, I drew a connection, um….”

“Oh, a nerd thing.  Gotcha.”  She finished pulling her hair into the tall poofed design Darcy had called the faux-hawk.  Hideous, but better than when she attempted dreadlocks.  According to Darcy you needed the right kind of hair to do that without it turning nasty.  “Come to the mixer tonight, it’s just some alumns and honor students and a few Greeks, I swear, it won’t be the frat party again.  You need to live some.”

“Sure, what time?”

“Starts at nine, so anyone important won’t get there until ten, unless you want to schmooze the wrinkle farm.”

“Oh, ok.”

“God you’re a loser, Lewis.  At the party, I don’t know you, got it?”

“Yeah,” he replied sarcastically.  Then she started changing and he grabbed the nearest book that wasn’t a history textbook.  Diary of Anne Frank, that seemed safe.

It wasn’t safe.

<^>

Bucky got an inebriated Darcy back home and let her serenade him with off-key songs and ramble about politics in eras he knew nothing of until she fell asleep and started snoring.  His first wake-up check to make sure everything was fine had Steve sobbing into his shirt.  The next morning Steve refused to talk about it.

“Come on Pal, I just wanna help.”

“So did I.  But I read something I shouldn’t have.”

“History book?  She marks those.”

“It was handy to escape the roommate.  I hate that woman.  But it was the Diary that did it.”

“YOU READ HER DIARY!  Lord, Steve, you NEVER do that.”

“No, it was published.  It was by a girl named Anne Frank in Amsterdam, five years from now.”

“The world end in five years or something?”

“It does for a thirteen-year-old girl named Anne.  Bad stuff coming, Buck.  War.”

“That’s why Darce keeps angling to get me better at math, I’m gonna be a trigger man alright, for the fucking Army!”

“Yeah, you might want to dust off your dad’s rifle and start practicing.  I can stay out of danger for a week while you go visit his buddies at Lehigh.  They’d love to train you to it, and you can do the math.”

“And you?”

“Everybody else that Darcy’s family protected did big things.  Started wars, ended wars, started countries, invented things, saved lives.  They’re in history books.  None of them sat the big stuff out.  I think… I think I’ll need to enlist.”

“Steve… you are two hundred pounds of good intentions in a ninety-pound sack, but said sack is made up of health problems.  You’ll be 4F.”

“I’ll be in that war if I have to hide in a plane or walk across the damn Atlantic.  You don’t know what they’re doing, Buck.  Right now, what’s going on over there.  My life has to have a greater meaning, if Darcy has risked hers so often for it and I can’t think of a better meaning than helping win that war.”

“Steve,” Bucky started.

“No, you want to wrap me in cotton wool and keep me safe, but I need to be there.”

“I know.  I’ll try to help you.”

“You, know?”

“Yeah, ya punk, I knew you were gonna be important when I hauled you outta the trash when we met.  And I care about you too much to stand in the way of that.  Even if I die of worry.”

“You… did you just….”

“End of the line.  Was that not clear enough?  I love you, and I refuse to be made to feel bad ‘bout that.”

“I love you too, jerk.”

They shared a bed that night, even though it was summer.  Bucky left to go to Lehigh the next day with Steve’s oath he’d stay inside and paint.  He had a poster commission to finish, anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slang Translations:  
> Micky- a rufie, a knock-out or other date-rape drug.  
> Micky Finn- a person who uses Mickys to get something from another, sex or money.  
> Tub juice- (Modern) a form of homemade alcohol often served at college fraternity parties where some individuals may be too young to legally buy booze. A descendant of bathtub gin, hence the name, not often made in an actual bath tub.  
> Loon- crazy person  
> Louse- horrible person
> 
> Historical Notes:  
> All the movies mentioned came out in Steve and Darcy's respective senior years, except the first Pirates of the Caribbean, which Darcy got a copy of to watch before taking him to the second in theaters.
> 
> Bob Ross was a painter who did a television show on Public Broadcast about painting. He had a very soothing voice and was fond of landscapes with "happy little trees". Watch his stuff if you can find it.
> 
> Mickys could take many forms, from sedatives like Chloral hydrate, to euphoria-inducing drugs of many types (which is what Darcy drinks) Mickys are still in use today, so be careful with your drink, never let anyone but the licenced bartender or you touch your drink at a bar or club, never leave it unattended and keep it away from other people's hands. If you feel like you've been drugged, call Emergency Services immediately, even if you feel good. If you observe someone dosing a drink, a safer way to handle this is to simply remove the drink from the victim, call Emergency services, and make sure the perpetrator remains on the property until authorities arrive to test the tainted drink.
> 
> Hey Micky! is a song from 1981, by an artist named Toni Basil, and has since seen many covers, remixes, and parodies. This version, where 'Micky' is obviously an unwanted presence in the singer's life, was based on a improv riff I saw at a campus LGBT+ Cabaret, artist unknown, and re-written mostly from memory, apologies to the singer if I got it wrong.
> 
> America did indeed have internment camps for ethnically Japanese American citizens in WWII, eerily similar to Holocaust camps, minus the ovens. Many Japanese-American soldiers, like Jim Morita in the MCU, were recruited straight from the camps with coercion, threats and the promise that the more men of the family who fought, the more food would be given to the remaining family. Morita has every right to be salty about being from Fresno, California, since he was likely recruited in this way.
> 
> Faux-hawks, intended to mimic mohawks without the commitment of shaving, were originally an 80's do, but became oddly popular in colleges in 2007, Darcy's freshman year, only to vanish into the punk (not that kind) subculture. Candi's Faux-hawk looks like this: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/27/6c/6b/276c6b5dced89a2b7136b89afa869a84.jpg only pale pink.
> 
> The Diary of Anne Frank is a classic piece of historical non-fiction, the actual diary of a girl in Amsterdam who hides from the Nazi invasion of the Netherlands. Heartbreaking and honest, it is seen as one of the best source documents of WWII European Jewish experience.
> 
>  
> 
> Teaser Alert:
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> "Chocolate fondue is as close to sex as you can get without a partner."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy explores culinary adventures with Steve and snipes an e-bay auction.
> 
> Steve studies and prepares for the war he know she can't warn him about.
> 
> Bucky trains as a sniper, then gets called upon to mentor more snipers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, prior to my normal love-fest, I have to tell you something, Bodies in Time now has an official soundtrack, made by SailorRoxy and you can listen to it here: https://m.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL_Le1VPgC6XPOzdJf6F2qVSUsva2J7H8k Please give this big love, as it is the first time anyone has made a fan-creation of a fan-creation I made, and I am so flippin' excited. I feel like a BNF.
> 
> So, dedicated to quadrad, BloodElf, SerialObsessor (DlStar71), halfelf87, Pen37, Maedae84, SailorRoxy, Shadows_of_Shemai, Yes, pianobookworm, Squirrel_Stone, racecz5, Iffi, Matlida_Nicki, merrysoul, Joey99, Wheresarizona, mouseymightymarvellous, SionnachOiche3, and tigrislilium. Also to the 29 new kudo-ers. Normally I've leveled off on kudos by this point in a fic, one or two new per chapter. This appears to have a growing fan-base.
> 
> Not all the notes fit, so the translations are up here:  
> Translations:  
> Sock: from the tradition of haning a sock on the doorknob to indicate to your roommate you are having intimate relations and they should not enter.  
> General quarters or the quarters- technically an announcement made aboard a naval warship to signal the all hands aboard a ship to battle stations as quickly as possible. On land, especially in non-Naval military bases, it means a base-wide call to report to your commanding officer, sometimes as a drill to time the response, but also when a war is being announced to previously enlisted personnel.  
> Christ's blood- a common exclamation among Irish Catholics. Duffy's last name is Irish in origin.  
> Dance card- The card a young lady fills out at a dance when asked for a specific dance, a schedule of when she is dancing what and with whom, having Death on your dance card means you have a ticking clock on dying or killing, similar to the phrase "a date with Death".  
> Stripping- in this context, disassembling a gun to clean it, also called field-stripping.  
> Cooking with gas- doing really well, having things go right, similar to 'golden'.  
> Markers- an IOU, for cash or a favor yet to be paid.  
> Mess- short for mess-hall, the place food is served on a military base.

Darcy was pleasantly surprised by the rapid drop in immediate danger swaps. They still did things like movies, or music, or buffets.  Steve _loved_ Golden Corral, with all its choices.  Darcy’s waistline did not so much enjoy his methodical way of trying a little of everything, but she knew he wouldn’t live to taste sushi, so she indulged him.

 _Hey, what’s that?_ Steve thought.

 _Fondue fountain, melted chocolate you dip stuff in.  They also can be made with cheese, or boiling broth for cooking meat.  Cheese is usually paired with bread, chocolate with, well anything,_ Darcy thought back.  She skewered a chunk of pineapple, a slice of banana and a strawberry on a stick and slowly rotated it under the fall of dark chocolate.  Back at her table, she sipped her Fanta and used a fork to dislodge the strawberry and pop it in her mouth.

 _Gee whiz_ , Steve thought over the link.

 _Chocolate fondue is as close to sex as you can get without a partner_ , Darcy agreed.  Boy had both of them been happy when Darcy found a way to put up a ‘do not disturb’ sign on her swaps.  She called it the Psychic Sock.

She did the same with the banana, and Steve dropped the link so fast Darcy hurried to swallow and try to follow him.  Her vision blurred and she caught a glimpse of a pin-up that looked suspiciously like her before the table cleared up in front of her.

 _Steve, you ok, buddy?_ Darcy thought at him

 _That was not a banana.  I don’t know what that was, but it was not a banana,_ Steve told her.

 _Oh, damn, I forgot about the banana plague.  The ones you’re used to died off to the point where we can’t use them as a cash crop, so now we eat Cavendish bananas.  The banana flavoring remained the same because it was formulated when your bananas were around_ , Darcy explained.  _Did you not like it?_

 _No, it just didn’t taste like a banana.  I think if it were cooked or something so I didn’t have to think about it I might like it.  They haven’t messed up pineapples have they?  I always wanted to try it, but it’s so expensive,_ he thought wistfully.

Darcy answered him by eating the chocolate coated fruit.  Their brains made simultaneous ‘mmm’ thought at each other.

_Steve, Steve, they have pineapple upside-down cake._

_Go for it._

Darcy regretted that excursion the next day.  That didn’t stop her from doing it again.  She also went to a candy store called It’Sugar to buy replica 1930’s and early 40’s candy to test against Steve.  It was for a paper!  And because Skybars and Big Cherry tasted amazeballs awesome.  She kept a collection of vintage candy in a metal Captain America lunchbox she paid waaay too much for on e-bay (curse her competitive nature and the doggedness of SecretAgentMan45) and another of the newer stuff in a Firefly-themed bento box, for Steve’s perusal when she did have to swap with him.

<^>

Steve kept his head low as he watched for signs of war.  He grabbed day-old newspapers out of the stacks he carried from the stands to the shops that used the papers to package delicate things and rushed home to read up on international events.  This Adolf fella was a nasty piece of work, but he was still disturbingly charismatic in the papers.  Steve painted for anybody who’d have him, doing shop adverts and portraits of people.  He took to always making a second copy of a fella’s picture and ensuring he knew the name of the man’s Ma, usually through polite chit chat.  Some of these young men were gonna go to war, and many of those would die.  He wouldn’t wish that knowledge on any mother, so he was gonna make sure they got the pictures to the next of kin.

Aside from work, he only left the apartment to do research, not just the newspapers but trips to the library to study Europe’s geography, the most common phrases in the languages there, old books on military strategy and why what works when, and the best ways to make another person’s strategy fall apart.  Sun Tzu had some good points on fighting asymmetrically.  Small forces toppling big clumsy forces.  Like Judo, and the other things Darcy used and showed Bucky how to teach him, small _smart_ fighter beats big _dumb_ fighter every time.

The reduced time outside meant seeing fewer bullies.  Seeing fewer bullies meant getting in fewer fights.  Getting in fewer fights meant fewer swaps.  Fewer swaps, apparently meant his time-connection waned a bit.  He had to start telling Darcy when it was as they passed from one to another.  Those split-seconds when both of them were together, no bodies, just them, were some of his best moments.  As much as he loved Bucky, he loved Darcy too.  And from a few things said, followed by guilty looks, he thought Bucky loved her too.  It’d be perfect except the best case scenario had them handling a seventy-year age gap.  No gorgeous young woman like her would want a pair of hundred-year-old wrinkly, senile queers.

He enjoyed what she showed him, but as he studied and watched the news-reels and practiced her ways of fighting with Bucky when he was home, he thought he was never going to live to see the ‘old’ television shows they watched, the one about the three lady detectives, or the one with the talking car, let alone the newer show they both loved, Firefly, get its mandatory second season, because there was no justice in the world if there was no revival of Firefly.

Bucky did his best to help him, but the time he had seemed to dwindle by the day.  Between trips down to Jersey to train with a rifle, and working extra hours at the docks and the mechanic’s shop, Bucky often came home so tired Steve had to help him change out of sweaty work clothes.  Steve saved all the extra he could, to help pay for Bucky’s trips, and he knew the trainers at Lehigh did the same to send him home, but the weeks he took off were wearing the budget down.  If it weren’t for Darcy’s tricks to make food go farther, last longer in the body, or her occasional co-piloting, as she called it, to help him make repairs he would have had to pay for, they wouldn’t have made it.

It was almost a relief when the radio interrupted its broadcast to tell him Pearl Harbor was gone and they were at War.

<^>

Bucky was at Lehigh when he found out.  General quarters were sounded, soldiers rushed to stations, like any other drill.  Only Bucky was not a soldier.  So he went to the Officer’s Hall.  It was a ghost town.  He sat and waited for the news he knew was coming.  Drill Sergeant Duffy was the first to return, wiping his hand over his face.  “Barnes, thank God.”  The man sat hard in the chair beside him.  “You hear?”

“The quarters, yeah, I heard ‘em.  ‘S why I came here.”

“Barnes, it happened, we’re at war.”

“Who with?”  He knew, he just… knew he shouldn’t know.

“Japan.  Italy, Germany, the whole goddamn world is getting in on this.  Again.  Christ’s blood, wasn’t the first one enough?”

“World War Two.  Huh, sounds like a horror movie sequel.  _War is back, and this time, it’s personal_.  You know?”

“Hah, Barnes, you got a soldier’s humor all right.  Almost like you already served.”

“In the streets and alleys of Brooklyn, I did.  In the Steve Rogers Campaign to End Assholes.  Guy woulda been flattened, weren’t for me and Darcy.”

“Darcy?”

“She’s, kinda Steve’s girl.  Sassy, classy, and scary as all hell.  She’s part of why I come out to train.”

“Yeah, you live with Rogers, right?  Good of you to give him time with his gal.  You gonna enlist?  We could use you, the shot you are, we could skip you up a rank or two.”

“Not yet, I will, I just… I have….  Well I got some things I need to get sorted out before then.  I got until Sunday to be here, you want me to take your better riflemen out for extra training before you ship ‘em?”

“Yeah.  I hear you, if you have Death on your dance card you wanna get your affairs together first.  Be proud to have you when you join, Barnes.  And yeah, I’ll give you Dunlap, Robertson, Hulme, and Pavlichenko, they’re all loaners with not much to do until Monday anyhow.”  He stood and walked out, and Bucky followed him.  The four were called over and Duffy introduced them.

“Barnes, that’s Dunlap, on loan from the Marines, Robertson, loaner from the Navy, Hulme, Army Air Corps, and Pavlichenko, Russia.  You lot, this is Barnes, from now until he leaves Sunday night, he is God to you all, you do as he says when he says it and you don’t ask why.  If you pay attention, you might learn something.”

Bucky looked them over, two blonde men, one a little stocky the other like a stork both in borrowed Army fatigues, a smiling brunette man in Marine training gear, and a stern woman about the size and shape of Darcy with raven-wing black hair.  He could tell she was daring him to say something.

“Let’s go.  There’s some trees that make good nests over that way.”

In the trees he timed their assent to the perches they chose.  He smiled at Dunlap and Pavlichenko’s choices, he’d used those trees too.  Hulme picked well, but his assent-time was slow.  Robertson made it up fastest but that put him in a hard spot to shoot from.

“Alphabetically, then, your target is on the range a thousand yards out, hope you brought your scopes.  You can come down if you hit it.  Dunlap.  First shot.”

The rifle report sounded followed by a muffled “dammit” a second later.

“Hulme, your turn.”  The rifle went off as a gust passed the range and Bucky saw the puff of dirt.  “Pavlichenko,” she was already firing.  He saw the neat hole in the target’s ‘head’ as he heard her drop twenty feet from her perch.

“Is this acceptable, Drill Sergeant?” she asked in a heavily accented voice.

“Acceptable?  Private, tell me you did not just ask me that.  A head shot at a thousand yards, what kind of rifle do you use?”

“Any.  I like Tokarev’s work best, but, you use what you get, da?”

“You obviously should not be here,” he said somewhat awed.

“Sir, I joined the army when women were not yet accepted, Sir.  I have _earned_ this."

“Not what I meant, Pavlichenko.  You shouldn't be training with grunts, you should be over there, taking pot-shots at Nazis.  You do this on instinct, or calculation?”

“I aim, I fire, the target is hit.  Does it matter?”

“Good Lord.  We’re doing math later, until then, you may do whatever pleases you.  Robertson!”

Robertson’s shot, as predictable, hit a tree.  Bucky called up the formulas they needed to use and weren’t, and ran them through again.  Dunlap dropped down on the second run.

“Good.  What rifle do you use?”

“Johnson’s Betsy, Sir, she’s a good hit.  Bayonet is shit and there are some issues stripping her, but if it’s modified, you’re really cooking with gas.  Sir.”  Bucky smiled at the enthusiastic kid.  God, he was only a few years younger than Bucky, a few inches taller and a good fifty pounds heavier than Steve, and here Bucky was thinking he was a kid.  He’d been joking when he told Duffy he served, but it felt like he had.

“Good job, Private, sit with Pavlichenko. Hulme!”

They did that until even Robertson hit the target, then Bucky had them do trigonometry.  Dunlap was pretty good, and it turned out, the kid was still in college, Mathematics minor.  Bucky moved him to help Hulme with the problems he was having.  He shifted Pavlichenko to more complex calculations involving moving targets.  They stayed in the woods until he was happy with their math, then he gave them a challenge.  He pulled out five tubes loaded with paint in a fragile shell, some people used them for marking targets, Bucky just saved the ones given to him at the armory out of habit.

“These are paint blow darts, you put the open end to your mouth, exhale hard and the paint pops out and tags what you aimed at.  Useless over the distances I shoot at but good for training.  You have all weekend to try to tag me.  Whoever can, without me tagging them, gets a favor.  From Drill Sergeant Duffy, who owes me big.  You may start planning your moves at dinner, when I tell him I’m wagering his markers.  Pavlichenko, you can have first pick.”

“I do not want special treatment, Sir, I am a soldier.”

“You’re a fucking vengeful war goddess with a gun, own that.  You get first pick of color because you hit the target first.  The others would have gotten that if they were in your place, except they weren't.”

“Oh, I want red.”

“Dunlap, your choice.”

“Yellow, Sir.”

“Hulme?”

“Green.”

“Robertson?”

“White.”

“Guess that means after you fire, you should check for blue paint.  Mess, bed, we drill again in the morning.”

“Sir, yes, Sir!”

He drilled them, but he also had them drill each other.  Lyudmilla, their Russian ‘curiosity’ taught cover and nest choices and how to identify natural dangers in nests.  Dunlap got them all on a higher mathematic level.  Hulme was silent and almost impossible to see when he was sent out into the woods, and he showed them how to match movement and sound to the surroundings.  Robertson showed them tree-leaping, to get from one nest to another quickly.  By Sunday, Duffy owed favors to Pavchenko and Hulme, and Bucky owed Dunlap a favor for the diagrams on how to modify a M1941 Johnson rifle, since Bucky was still using his Dad’s old Springfield.  Robertson was getting better, and just happy he could now beat the Navy’s internal distance shooting record.  He got on the train and went home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> History:  
> It'Sugar is a candy store in my hometown that does sell old-fashioned candy, this is their website http://itsugar.com/ although it does not have all the stuff available in the stores. For online buying I recommend oldtimecandy.com. Skybars are chocolate bars divided into four sections with four different centers which are caramel, vanilla, peanut and fudge covered in milk chocolate. Big Cherry is a mound of milk chocolate sprinkled with peanuts that contains a whole cherry in a rich creamy center. Both are amazing, as is Beemans gum, which I did not mention due to the incredibly sporadic nature of it's manufacture. If you see it, buy the whole box and stash it.
> 
> Firefly is a TV show that was canceled after one season in 2003. Many fans are still bitter, despite getting a movie (Serinity, 2005). It mixes space, western, and an odd pan-Asiatic supposedly Chinese aesthetics, and bento-boxes (compartmentalized lunch boxes popular in Japan) were made with images from the show after it was canceled.
> 
> Adolf Hitler was incredibly charismatic, part of what made him so successful and dangerous in the early campaigns of WWII.
> 
> Sun Tzu is the author of The Art of War, a classic book on battle strategy that is very Taoist, and as a result has much advice on accepting the strength of your opponent, locating his weakness, then tricking him into giving you an opening. It's judo for armies.
> 
> The three TV shows are in order, Charlie's Angels, Knight Rider, and Firefly. Steve is a big-time Browncoat.
> 
> Dunlap, Robertson, Hulme, and Pavlichenko are all real snipers, although only Dunlap and Pavilchenko served in WWII, and Robertson and Hulmes were not American. Dunlap is famous for using a modified M1941 Johnson, the same as Bucky uses in the movie, and he fought at Iwo Jima and when he enlisted while still at college (Mathematics minor) he was five feet six inches tall, weighing 148 pounds. Lyudmila Mikhailovna Pavlichenko was a Ukrainian Soviet sniper with 309 credited kills, still regarded as one of the top military snipers of all time and the most successful female sniper in history. Her line about joining the army is a quote. I messed with their timelines a bit to give them cameos.
> 
> Tokarev was a real-life Russian Howard Stark, minus the millionaire playboy bit. He designed several rifles and side arms including the SVT-40, which Pavilchenko used in her work as a sniper.
> 
> Johnson's Betsy was the common name of the M1941 Johnson, which was rejected for mass military armament because of the faulty bayonet and the small parts that tended to get lost when cleaning the gun. Despite that, every soldier on record who used one in WWII credited the gun with saving lives.
> 
> Paint blow-darts were precursors to paintball guns and used to help mark a dark or moving target to better aim. Paintball games like the challenge Bucky issued are still used in military training today.
> 
>  
> 
> Teaser Alert:  
> I could not pick, so you get three.
> 
>  
> 
> Darcy's Teaser: “God can’t be everywhere, and neither can mothers; that’s why we have uncles.” 
> 
> Steve's Teaser: “Nobody who can take a pounding like that and look so smug is a fucking 4F.”  
> “Well, you’re the one who was fucking a 4F. Besides, all that breathing practice from my asthma has made my respiratory endurance better than yours.”
> 
> Bucky's Teaser: "I’m gonna go, and I’m gonna shoot some dumbass German boys who got caught in this mess straight dead while they try their damnedest to shoot me straight dead. And I’m gonna do it, because it don’t matter if the people gettin’ hurt look like me, or pray like me, because they still bleed like me."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy graduates and celebrates the holidays before going back to school.
> 
> Steve gets his first 4F and some much needed reassurance from Bucky.
> 
> Bucky makes a point at work, then at home, and would like the world to please get sane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Fest Time! Dedicated to Snowdove30, Iffi, merrysoul, Joey99, HellKat, pianobookworm, Faiteach Saoirse (jaxx), Pen37, Ye, aquadrop25, racecz5, canibecandid, iwanttoreadmore, SionnachOiche3, BloodElf, Notashamed, Matlida_Nicki, Shadows_of_Shemai, and the 36 new kudo-ers.
> 
> Please note, I have begun to fall back in my writing and might not be able to hold the one-a-day schedule. If I have to change that, I will let you know ahead of time.

Darcy noted the drop in fights she was called to, and the sudden leaping about in time, unstuck from her own era.  That had been mentioned in the journals, sometimes years would pass in one Swap’s life while only days passed in the other’s.  She graduated early, December of 2010, and hauled Steve to her graduation, tired and grumpy though he was.  He did perk up when she was immediately invited to get a Master’s Degree by the Dean of Political Science.  He was fascinated by how she melded her History Major into the applications of modern study.  Darcy was going to say no, the last time she’d gotten Steve’s date was in November of 41, she needed to be there for him.

 _I shouldn’t, you need me_ , she thought as the dean waxed poetic about her future career in government, although obviously journalism, law, business and teaching remained viable options.

 _You said the day a man chose your outfit was the day the mortician put you in a box_ , Steve thought at her.  _Why would you let a dumb Joe like me decide something as important as your life’s goals?  You should do what you want to do._

“Yeah, I’d love to,” she said, and before the graduation parties ended, she’d signed up to be in the Master’s program, Political Science.  She started the next semester, only spending Winter Break at home.  Technically, at Grandma Bahrenburg’s home.  She wanted to do more reading in the journals, and she could feel Steve’s rising tension when she asked him to go with her to movies or restaurants.  War was upon him, and that meant swapping.  Christmas passed without much fuss, and Chanukah had happened while she was cramming for five classes, so she opened her presents from her Dad’s side all at once, although it wasn’t like she hadn’t gotten a care package of Gelt and gift cards to coffee places from her uncles and her Aunt Leora every day of the holiday.  The big stuff though, she opened at a dinner with all the family her Mom could tetris into the house.  The nicest was probably the beautiful sliver domed locket with a magen David hand painted inside, the most practical was the taser and a gift card for lessons in how to use it from a woman near Culver.  What really got to her though, was the book.  A Shield for Those Who Walk in Integrity, a Study of Captain America by a German Jew, by Ezra Loewy.  The cover was the iconic circular shield, but the star had six points.  Darcy nearly burst into tears hugging it, and her Uncle Joseph had no idea why his gift was hitting her like that.  Later she buried her head in his shoulder on the sofa and told him she loved it.  He held her and let her cry.

“God can’t be everywhere, and neither can mothers; that’s why we have uncles,” he said when she apologized.

<^>

Steve had just gotten his first 4F, the Monday after Bucky came home in the middle of the night.  He was cranky, hungry, and running on four hours of sleep and two cups of coffee.  He was inclined to turn down the co-piloting offer when he saw a glimpse of Darcy in a mirror, wearing the cap and gown of a graduate.  He calmed her nerves, told her funny stories, made comments on the speakers, and then just watched from her eyes as she walked across the stage, took her diploma, fist pumped, and rejoined her family.

It was hard not saying ‘stay with me’ or ‘I’m scared’ or ‘I need you’ to her.  But he knew she needed to have a life after the swaps, and the guy was talking some good jobs, government stuff.  Darcy could change the world in her own right, not just saving him until he did his thing, whatever it was.  He saw her off to home and eased off the connection.

Bucky came home and Steve showed him the 4F.  Bucky read the list of reasons, tossed it in the fire of the stove and kissed him.  They made love that night, hard and rough, Steve egging Bucky on.  Gasping for breath as Steve smiled at him, Bucky looked up.  “Nobody who can take a pounding like that and look so smug is a fucking 4F.”

“Well, you’re the one who was fucking a 4F.  Besides, all that breathing practice from my asthma has made my respiratory endurance better than yours.”

“That sounds like a Darce thing.”

“I may’a read a biology book to evade Candi-with-an-i.  Vile woman, I was so happy when Darcy got moved to a different dormitory.  Her last roommate was fantastic.  A real sweetheart.  And she sounded just like Vivien Leigh in Gone with the Wind.  Only not a scheming, khaki-whacky racist.  I’ll miss her.”

“Darcy graduate?”

“Yeah, I did a ride-along with her for it.  She’s gonna get a Master’s Degree in Political Science.”

“Wouldn’t that make it a Mistress’s Degree?  Since Darce is a dame and all.”

“Guess not everything gets fixed in seventy years.”

“It was a high hope anyhow.  How’re you gonna handle the swaps?”

“Same as always, I guess.  I didn’t get in.”

“Yeah, right, pull my other leg buddy, it has bells on it.  Steve, you never give up.  You do what ya think is right even when it’s gonna get ya killed.  Hence Darcy.  Just promise you’ll be smart about this?”

“I can try.”

“At least ask Darcy if she can give you a clue, please, you might not need to go to the front, you might need to do something right here.”

“Look at my life, Buck, when has there ever been a bully I didn’t go try to smack?  Especially the big ones?  And there is no bigger bully on the planet right now than the Axis Powers.  I know where I need to be.  You too.”

“Me?”

“The end of the line somewhere over an ocean?  Yeah you too, Jerk, who else will keep my scrawny ass alive?”

“There is that.  And I hear Europe gets kinda chilly at night.”

“Maybe we should run some drills on what to do ‘bout that?”

“I like the way you think, Punk.”

<^>

Bucky had crawled out of bed at dawn to go to the docks for morning shift.  He helped shift the heavy loads and listened to the talk about the War.  A lot of the guys didn’t like it.  Most of them were guys he didn’t really know too well, but one… one he did.

“Yo, Wilson, lend a hand over here, the bastards loaded this wrong,” he called from under a box.  Zeke Wilson slipped in under to help, but when he was there, Bucky grabbed his shirt.

“Hey, what’s the problem, Barnes?”

“It ain’t just Jews, Zeke.  It’s negroes, and Rom and just about anybody who ain’t Aryan.  It’s _you_.  Now, I can’t go just yet, I gotta get it settled proper at home, but I’m going.  I’m gonna go, and I’m gonna shoot some dumbass German boys who got caught in this mess straight dead while they try their damnedest to shoot me straight dead.  And I’m gonna do it, because it don’t matter if the people gettin’ hurt look like me, or pray like me, because they still _bleed_ , just like me.”

“And you’re telling me this why?  I can’t even fight in the same unit with you Barnes, I can’t piss in the same damn bathroom.”

“Someday Zeke, you will.  Or if you don’t see it, hey, your brother’s got a girl, you could have a nephew or a niece that will.  That’ll be able to fight, eat, live right next to my nieces and nephews, and maybe even get married someday, if they wanna.  The Barnes-Wilsons, or maybe the Wilson-Barnes’s.  Guys look like you gonna be teachers, and lawyers and the goddamn President.  But not if we lose.  So shut your pie-hole about not caring if some Jews you ain’t met get lead poisoning.”

“Since when are you a fortune teller, Barnes?”

“Since I met a lady who sees the future clear as if it were happening around her, and she slugged back too much booze.  Liquored up psychics tell you more, they aren’t as worried about messing shit up and butterflies.  I’m telling ya, she promised, swore on her own blood, negro President, 2008, you’ll be ninety.  Only they don’t call ‘em that then, it’s African American.  But that’s all based on winning the goddamn war.  Now push, I wasn’t lying about this crate bein’ loaded wrong.”

At home, after work, Steve handed him the 4F.  He looked at the list of health problems in neat typeface.  Asthma, Scarlet fever, Rheumatic fever, Epilepsy, Scoliosis, Sinusitis, Chronic or frequent colds, High blood pressure, Palpitations or pounding in heart, Easy fatigability, Heart Trouble, Nervous trouble of any sort, Has had household contact with tuberculosis patient, Parent/Sibling with diabetes, cancer, or stroke.  Half that shit could have been left off if Steve lied. Of course he _wouldn't_ lie about that.

None of it changed the fact his punk was the toughest thing on two legs this side of the Atlantic, how’d the doctor think he was still standing?  When a list of diseases as long as your arm tries to kill ya, and you’re still standing and they don’t win, you gotta assume there’s some kind of special there.  He tossed the 4F in the wood burning stove and grabbed Steve.  He didn’t make it gentle or kind, he made it brutal, and Steve was right there with him, taunting him to push harder, be rougher.  He knew what Steve needed from this.  He needed to know that he might be a walking disaster health-wise, but he was a brick shit-house when it came to taking physical force with a grin.  He reassured him on that point, they talked, had another round of the softer things Bucky preferred, and fell asleep.  In the middle of the night Bucky woke from a dream about rain and mud and monsters to look at Steve, and then adjust him so he wasn’t snoring, before going back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Joe- a man.  
> Gelt- chocolate coins given during Chanukah.  
> Magen David- also called the Star of David.  
> 4F- the card declaring you physically or mentally unfit for active service, also used about the person declared unfit.  
> Khaki-wacky- boy-crazy.  
> Rom- the Rroma, sometimes called gypsies, but that is a derogatory and I won't use it unless in the words of a bad-guy character.  
> Pie-hole- mouth.  
> Lead poisoning- shot to death.  
> Brick shit-house- very tough and durable.
> 
> Notes:  
> Darcy's family celebrates Chanukah because her Dad is Jewish, though his Mom, because that is passed through the mom's line. So Darcy isn't technically a Jew because her Mom is not. That does not stop them treating her like a good Jewish girl, even if she isn't. Gelt and money or gift cards are traditional small gifts during the holiday to the youngest generation, but big presents are also exchanged. Her locket looks like this one: http://www.zazzle.com/magen_david_silver_round_locket_necklace-177386634480344623
> 
> A Shield to Those Who Walk in Integrity is a line taken from Proverbs, but is taught alongside the Torah in modern Judaic learning.
> 
> The book is fictional, but many a meta has been done on the fact that the Shield of David was a star, and Steve uses a shield and Sten Lee, who saved the character and changed the shield to the round one with the single star, was Jewish.
> 
> "God cannot be everywhere; that's why He made mothers" is a common Jewish saying.
> 
> Wood burning stoves were still in use in poorer areas of New York City in the early forties.
> 
> Many asthmatics practice breath control as a way of handling an attack if they can't get to an inhaler. These exercises are the same that endurance athletes use to improve their lung stamina.
> 
> Despite the general patriotic fervor, many men in America did not want to fight on the European front, because only Japan had attacked the US. Anti-semitism was pretty bad, and many of the ones resistant to fight in Europe sited not caring about Jews.
> 
> Segregation laws meant a black soldier could not fight in a white unit and vice versa. They also limited where African Americans could eat, shop, drink from water fountains and yes, pee. The laws about marrying cross-racially were Anti-miscegenation laws. Both sets were in effect in 1941.
> 
>  
> 
> Teaser Alert:
> 
>  
> 
> “If you are who I believe, I should thank you. Good-bye, Steven, Ki Malachav Yetzaveh Lach Lishmorcha Bechol Deracheicha.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy deals with graduate school stress and Steve trying to enlist.
> 
> Steve learns some things he never knew about Darcy, as does someone else.
> 
> Bucky wants his loves safe, and if he has to sign up, he will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Fest! Dedicated to: BloodElf, SionnachOiche3, Notashamed, halfelf87, Maedae84, tigrislilium, Elisa, Joey99, merrysoul, Ye, Matlida_Nicki, iwanttoreadmore, and the 17 new kudo-ers.
> 
> ATTENTION: I'm starting my week-end a little early, you will have to wait until Monday for the next chapter. I'm sorry, but I'm also down with the flu, and the fever beats the regrets.

Darcy made it halfway through her first semester as a graduate before Steve needed her for another fight.  She kicked ass promptly, then went back into the theater they had both come from.  She checked her ticket stub to find what he was watching, scanned the room for Bucky and settled into a seat in the back row.  Newsreel was playing, the beginnings of the war.  She remembered this one from her Bachelor’s.  They swapped back as a cartoon began playing.

Darcy found the right newsreel clip on youtube, added it to Steve’s playlist, called up a swap so he could listen in and went back to studying.

Graduate school was harder, the class load more taxing, even though she wasn’t rushing it like she had before, only four classes her first semester, she knew she was going to have to stop in the middle anyway.  She also tried to balance that with making sure Steve and Bucky were alright.  She didn’t sleep more than a few hours every night, four and a half was a good night, and she felt herself slipping into Graduate Fog, that repetitive, mindless circle of study, eat, nap, study, class, repeat.  That way led madness, according to all her sources.

As a solution, one of her teachers assigned her extra credit to go out to an isolated community to study the political structures for a week.  She cleared it with all of Darcy’s other teachers except Dr. Skivorski who was frankly evil and assigned her extra work to do on her “sabbatical”.  Darcy picked a Hassidic Shtetl with vaguely Amish traditions about tech to go to, mostly Russian immigrants so that rusty Yiddish of hers was going to have to get better.  She only narrowly avoided going alongside Amadeus Cho, who had an obnoxious crush on her, but he wasn’t even part Jewish.

Her week began well, the calmness of small labor reducing her stress.  Tuesday, that changed when she swapped in with Steve who was getting the strong arm from an MP in a recruitment office.  He was using the classic bully move of bracing his hand on her shoulder and holding her back from hitting him.  Just as well, she needed to let off steam and that was dangerous now on the torso, it required control her sleep-deprived mind didn’t have.

“Pally, you are never gonna convince the doc here you can be more than cannon fodder.  Do yourself a favor, take your 4F and go home before you get hurt.”

“I’m not the one who’s gonna have a dislocated elbow in a bit,” Darcy snarled at him and slammed both hands clasped together down on his right elbow joint in the wrong direction.  There was a sickening crunch, and the arm was yanked away in a yowl loud enough it got everyone’s attention, and whoah-howdy, that’s a lot of half-naked men.  Unfortunately, Darcy’s mouth was still set to snark.  “Anyone else want a go?  Anybody want to trade me for my 4F?  We got any Jodies in here want an excuse to stay at home?  I’ll take you all on, you asswipe dickbrains.”  She looked at the injured MP.  “Reset that, ice it and immobilize it, and maybe you won’t be called Lefty forever.”

“Do you have medical training, Mr. Rogers?” the doctor asked.

“Only fixing what I got hurt, my neighborhood’s not a great place for a guy what doesn’t like bullies,” she told him honestly of Steve.

“Do you get injured a lot, Mr. Rogers?”

“Less than the bullies do, I can tell ya that.”

“I was unaware Providence had such a rough side.  And if you don’t mind me saying so, your Brooklyn is showing.  It’s illegal to lie on an enlistment form.”

Oh.  Crap.  Steve had tried five times to get in, he had to have lied on those forms.  She was in Rhode Island.  Not good.  The MP drew his side-arm with a shaky left hand and Darcy decided discretion in the form of booking it was the better part of staying alive.  She scooped up Steve’s stuff and bolted out the back.  Ah, an alley full of trash, home turf.  Knocking a can over she snagged the lid and tossed it Frisbee style at the gun.  She missed, but it distracted him long enough for her to slip Steve’s shoes back on.  She could dress and run, a unique skill brought on by one too many 6 am classes in undergrad.

Out of the alley, she caught her breath, cursed the late invention of the inhaler, and walked towards a café.

“You got a phone in here, Mister?” she asked the host.

“Yes, are you quite all right, you don’t seem the thing,” asked the Brit as he showed her the phone.  Rotary.  Fan-fucking-tastic.  She didn’t know the code for out of state to the apartment.  She dialed 0.

“Suffolk county phone operator, how may I direct your call?” said a tired sounding woman.

“Oh thank god I’m not in Rhode Island,” Darcy blurted.  “Um, I need the Barnes-Rogers residence, maybe the Rogers-Barnes.  Um guy named James Barnes, you got a listing?  It’s in Brooklyn.”

“Kid, it is the end of my damn shift, and everybody in Brooklyn knows James B. Barnes ain’t gonna be back in state till late.”

“Oh.  Um, this is Steve… Rogers, um, I wound up out here and I don’t know how and I need to get home, and frankly Mrs., what’s your name?”

“Robertson, Rose Robertson, and its Miss.”

“Well frankly Miss Rose I could use a hand, I’m scared.”

“Never thought I would live to hear that admission.  I’m off in two, I’ll swing by and get ya.”

“Thanks Rose, you are a life saver.  True hero.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… you’ll forget that soon enough.”

Rose pulled up a few minutes later, Darcy finished explaining the difficulty the Brit ex-pat was having buying underwear, and ran out to meet a formidable woman with a scowl and cat’s eye glasses.  “Hiya Rose, thanks a million for this.  I don’t know what I’m doing out here.”

“Getting another 4F, probably, you look like you’re collecting them, what’s this, three?”

“Maybe.  Less than five?”

“You are a piece of work Rogers; you fight like you got somebody to prove something to.  Everybody knows you can handle yourself in a fight, least at home.  Who you tryin’ to impress, a girl?  No girl is worth that Steve.”

“Maybe I just want more than home to know I can do something, that I’m more than just plain old D- **Steve**.  Maybe I know a thing or two about women and I know none I’d want would be impressed by this macho bull, maybe I want things for my sake, huh?  You ever thought maybe a guy like me might have more in common with a woman like you than he does with the lunks?”

“Steve, I’m a woman, it’s totally different.”

“You telling me you never once thought to yourself, I’m gonna have to be two times better to be thought half as good as the able-bodied man, but fortunately this isn’t that difficult?  That you never got told no because they looked and refused to see?  That you never had door after door after _fucking_ **goddamn** door slammed in your face?  That you never had to look in a mirror and remind yourself you deserve more than the scraps so you wouldn’t just curl up and quit?”

“I… Steve….”

“No, I get it.  I’m a guy, a scrappy little shrimp of one, but you’ll never see anything more than that.  Privilege doesn’t end at the inseam, Rose.  But it’s not your fault.’

“I have thought all that.  And then I did curl up and quit.  I work at the damn phone company.”

“Rose, you’re a fucking telecommunications officer.  You control all calls, and how long they wait and how secure the line is and ‘oops I accidentally disconnected that asshat, oh well’ and whether or not some abusive jerk actually gets connected to the girl who ran away from him.  You have power.  Now, you have to ask, how are you going to use it?”

They drove in silence and Rose dropped Darcy off.  Inside she checked the slow-cook, added a pinch of the spices that Mrs. Wu gave Bucky every time he got noodles, and sat down to fill Steve in.

<^>

Steve woke up sure he’d lost it this time.  Darcy’s body had been napping on a shop counter and stool that both looked like something from his time.  Trying to get his bearings, he tripped and knocked into a shelf of scarves.  Unlike his previous ride-alongs when Darcy went shopping, it was wood, not plastic and kind of rickety.

He had stabilized it when a woman asked him something in a language he didn’t know.

“Uhhh….”

She said it more slowly.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re saying.  Do you maybe speak English?”

She said something angry that sounded like Russian, then in a heavy accent, she told him off in English.

“Neora Lewis, what are you doing?  You bend over like that where any passing boy could see, you still do not wear your stockings right, and now you refuse to speak Yiddish?  And what do you mean, do I speak English?  You know very well I speak the best English here.”

“I… Yiddish?  I didn’t….”  Oh dear lord.  He sat down hard on the floor as if he’d been hit.  Was Darcy Jewish?  Was that why she wouldn’t talk with him about the War?  Did her family… did nice Mrs. Bahrenburg get put in… no, no, no.  “I need to call home, I need to talk to my grandmother.  Where’s my phone?”

“Neora!  You know we don’t allow cellular phones here.  What has gotten into you?  The truth, Neora.  I will know if you lie to me.”

Steve looked up from the floor.  “I’m not her,” he whimpered.  “She took my place to save me, and I didn’t know she was, oh god, her grandma’s what, sixteen when it starts?  I didn’t know… Oh God, _Darcy_ ….  Forgive me Darcy, I didn’t _know_.”  He started to hyperventilate and strong arms held him.

“Devochka, what is your name, and why would the Lord send Neora to save you?”

“I’m Steve, Steven.  I guess I’m important in the future, mine I mean, it would be your past.  She’s been saving my life since we were sixteen.  The war has just started, we’re only a year in, I keep trying… but I’m not sure I can do what she needs, I get told I can’t a lot.  I’m kind of a runt.”

“Steve is a strong name.  A big name with big boots to fill.  It is the David of the Goyim.  And as we wear the magen David, the shield and star of David, another man named Steve carried a shield and star.”  She undid a clasp around Darcy’s neck and showed him a domed locket Darcy had worn before but he had never seen inside, because what if it was her fella?  He’d have felt like a dope.  She opened it to the most beautiful six pointed star he’d ever seen in blue and silver painted inside.  “Davids have been small before.  That does not mean they do not win.  I think a small Steve might be just as strong as a small David.  But you must always try.  If you do not, the giant wins, the enemy destroys your homelands, kills your friends and family.  So you stand up, say “I will do this” and then you do it, even if it is hard.  You think you get told no a lot, you try being a Jew!”

“Thank you.  I think I feel the swap coming, Darcy will be back soon.  But thank you.”

“If you are who I believe, I should thank you.  Good-bye, Steven, _Ki Malachav Yetzaveh Lach Lishmorcha Bechol Deracheicha_.”

He swapped back into his own apartment with a note.

**Steve,**

**You are a reckless asshole.  Never change, but next time give a girl a little warning when you strand her half naked in Suffolk county with a falsified enlistment form.  I thought I was in Rhode Island!  Oh, and you be really super nice to Rose Roberts, she saved me tonight.**

**Darcy**

**P.S. Your lucky number is five.  I shouldn’t say that, but maybe you’ll handle number four without me if you know, and I don’t need to see that many men in nothing but boxers and socks again.**

<^>

Bucky got home late, Steve reading a note in his Darcy book.  “What’s up, Stevie?”

“Buck, Darcy… she’s a Jew.  Speaks Yiddish and everything.  She was at some recreation place or something, and everybody spoke Yiddish, and I didn’t, and I blew my cover because I didn’t know what to do.  But it’s…" Steve shook himself.  "Bucky it’s _Darcy_ I’m fighting for.  For her family, maybe her life, because if her family dies, even one grandparent, before the war is over Darcy could _stop existing_.  I have got to help them.  _We_ have got to help them.  Because don’t even _try_ to tell me you aren’t just as in love with her as I am.”

“Ok, I’ll give notice tomorrow and sign up for a government ride to Lehigh day after that.  For Darcy.  If it weren’t for the time….”

“I know, me too.  Maybe we’ll all wind up in the afterlife together?”

“Maybe you and I just focus on staying alive to see her face to face.  Get some sleep Punk,” he told Steve with a kiss.

“You too, Jerk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Hassidic Shtetl- a Shtetl is a Jewish enclave community that may or may not be within a larger city or it's own town, Hassidic Jews are a more traditional branch, and while I do not know of any Hassidic Shtetls that have tech prohibitions, the number of Hassidic Jews I know who do not want to carry cell phones makes me feel this is a believable scenario.  
> Yiddish- a language spoken by many Jews of Eastern European decent.  
> MP- Military Police.  
> Pally- friend, in a sarcastic way.  
> Cannon fodder- one who's only purpose in war is to draw fire and die, and insult (think the red-shirted-Ensign trope)  
> Jodies- a well bodied man who avoids active service, a heavy insult in the army, the implication being they are cowards.  
> The thing- a Brit-ism meaning good health, to not be the thing is to be unwell.  
> Ex-pat- someone originally from another country.  
> Lunks- stupid muscular men.  
> Slow-cook- a food cooked over time on a low heat. The early version of a crock-pot meal.  
> Devochka (Russian)- baby-girl.  
> Goyim- a Jewish word for non-Jews.
> 
> Notes:  
> Graduate schools vary from major to major in course requirements, but from what I found Political Science tends to have a lower number of classes, but from the drop-rates, harder ones. Darcy thinks of four as a low number because she was taking five to six classes in undergrad to graduate early. Graduate Fog is a real and present threat and a good teacher will note it and try to help the student who has it, a bad teacher will only make things worse.
> 
> The arm-lock described here is easy to break in this way if you don't care about collateral. That MP may never use his right arm again.
> 
> In Britain, "pants" refers to underpants, and "trousers" to the outer garment. In America both refer to the outer one.
> 
> Telephone operators really did have all those capabilities, as well as being able to listen in on lines they relayed. Respect the one who controls the tech, she can end you.
> 
> Darcy is called Neora, because Darcy is not a Hebrew name. She would have gotten a second, Hebrew, name for use in the rites and celebrations, and for when living with traditionalists. As a side note, the name Darcy means "dark one" and Neora means "light".
> 
> The David referenced is the one of Goliath fame and also many other acts, he did a LOT. The magen David was said to be the sign of God's will shielding him.
> 
> Ki Malachav Yetzaveh Lach Lishmorcha Bechol Deracheicha is the Traveler's Prayer, a part of one of King David's Psalms. It means "For He shall command His angels for you, to guard you on all your paths."
> 
> Teaser:
> 
>  
> 
> "They think I’m nuttier than a jar of Planter’s Party Mix. Wouldn’t you?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy deals with Bucky Barnes being unfairly hot, Steve Rogers being a reckless idiot, and losing her life to help save theirs.
> 
> Steve becomes a dancing monkey and is afraid he's lost Darcy forever.
> 
> Bucky is coping with war, being a POW and a new-found (somewhat embarrassing) obsession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Fest! Dedicated to Immortal_Cosmic_Saturn, Vaughn_Tyler, aquadrop25, Elisa, halfelf87, SailorRoxy, Maharet, Pen37, SionnachOiche3, ChaoticPsyche, tigrislilium, Ye, Shadows_of_Shemai, ValkyriePhoenix, Notashamed, Iffi, Joey99, Deedeeds, SerialObsessor (DlStar71), merrysoul, herestolookingatyou, iwanttoreadmore, Musichowler, RinHitokiri, BloodElf, LaughingCat, Crystallea1321, Dactylion, muffinheadoo, and 51 new kudo-ers.
> 
> Thank you all for being so patient as I recuperate.

Darcy finished her study peacefully, although many of the older generations started going out of their way, or ordering their grandchildren to go out of their way, to make Darcy’s life easier.  When she said goodbye, one woman called her _farshteln fun di farshteln_ , shield of the shield.

At school, she worked hard, avoided Cho whenever possible, and got close to graduating, thanks to an extra credit teaching assistant job that summer.  She was six credits away from earning her degree when they hit.

The first one wasn’t so bad, she was in trash, normal, there was a big dude about to curb-stomp her, normal, she was pissed, trifecta of normal.  She hauled herself up and hefted the lid of a can like the shield, his shield.  The guy knocked it out of her hand.  Ok, no improvising a weapon you’ve never used, that’s fair.  He slugged her and her reflexes were shot enough it hit a little, instead of her dodging entirely.

“I could do this all day,” she growled at him.  “But why don’t you play with someone your own size, it’s safer.”

“Scared I’m gonna beat you?” he taunted.

“No,” Bucky said from where he’d stepped up beside the guy.  “He’s talkin’ about you.  It’s safer for you not to fight him, or did you not know that was Steve Rogers?”

“I don’t care who he- glark.”  He cut off as Darcy stuck a pair of stiffened fingers up into his solar plexus.  With no air, he faltered and fell when she pulled her hand back.

“He gonna live, or do I need to get a meat-wagon?” Bucky asked her.

“He’ll live.  No doubt with a secret but crippling fear of tiny men, but he’ll live.  I haven’t had a lethality on me since the gang when I was sixteen.  I should not have put that guy’s head through a wall, and I still feel bad about it,” she said sullenly as he guided her out of the alley.

“You had no way of knowing he’d had his head hit seven times that month, come on, we need to get you cleaned up.”

Darcy took in his uniform, and UNF, hot, so hot.  And so unfair he was taken AND gay AND going to die in four years.

“Hot date, hot stuff?”

“Yeah, sisters, Bonnie and Connie, from Omaha.”

“Sisters?” Darcy asked, one eyebrow up.

“Yeah, the kind that don’t have much of a family resemblance and move in from out of town and share an apartment.  Real class acts.”

“OH, yeah, _that_ kind of hot date.  Gotcha.  Where you taking ‘em?”

“You’ll love it; we’re going to the future.”  He snapped open the World’s Fair ad in the paper and Darcy laughed.

“I do love it.  Just, uh, do not get your hopes up on the concept of flying cars.  Clean energy, yes, flying cars… not so much.”

“Will do,” he said as they stepped into the apartment.  Darcy felt the tug, and Bucky must have noticed, because he slipped one tiny kiss to her lips.  “For luck, Doll.”

She faded back into her seat in Mob Psychology and Propaganda.

“Miss Lewis, if you cannot satisfactorily explain the media manipulation’s effect upon the psychological state of the participants of Kristallnacht in the next minute, you may leave.”  Darcy left.

The next day brought an apology from Steve as he leapt towards a grenade.  After it was determined to be a dummy grenade, Darcy spent most of her study time berating him for an idiot and telling him he was lucky Peggy Carter didn’t slay him where he stood.  Only his sharing a memory of using a conversation they’d had about Disney’s Mulan to win a challenge that hadn’t been beat in seventeen years calmed her down.

The day after, there was only pain.  She knew she was screaming, but she didn’t know if it was in her body or Steve’s.  “Shut it down!” she heard.  “No, I can do it,” Steve screamed.  Darcy knew he could, he did, and so she opened a door she hadn’t noticed was there, and shunted his pain into her body so he could make it out sane.  She blacked out as the bomb above the lab went off.  When she woke up, she was in a hospital.

“Miss Lewis, you blew out your larynx from screaming.  For seven hours straight.  We have you on a sedative, but please use the whiteboard to communicate.”

Well, shit.

She used her time in bed wisely, coaching Steve on talking with his new chorus girl line-up, and soon he was their dorky, adorable little brother who occasionally had really good ideas about cosmetics.  She’d like to take credit, but all she did was give him color theory books and a few copies of _Seventeen_ way back when she was a kid, the rest was Steve being a terrific artist, on canvas or face.  He did eye-liner like nobody’s business.  He was a horrible actor though.

 _Darcy, I need you to swap with me.  The director is gonna kill me if I don’t deliver a better speech, and it’s a small audience, really, I promise_ , he thought to her as they checked her out of ICU and into the normal hospital.

_You owe me, big-time, Steve.  Don’t say a single word in my body._

She swapped in as he stepped onto the stage.  He had notes taped to his shield, oh lord, how did this human disaster become the hero of the European Theater?  She read them quickly, and no, dear god no, this was horrible.  She knew good propaganda, and this sir, was crap.  Instead she looked out at the audience.  Little kids, looking like she was Elmo in Sesame Street Live.

“I, uh, I have a speech I’m supposed to give,” she said, and boy was it weird talking again.  “But, I don’t think it’s what you want to hear.  So, if it’s all right with everyone, I’m just going to sit here on the edge and talk a bit.”

Amanda, the ‘S’ chorus girl hissed “What are you doing?” at her from the wings.

“I want to take a moment to be honest.  Honesty is hard, for everyone.  We want to hear someone else has it figured out, that we won’t have to fight for things, that we’re safe, that there is a Man With a Plan,” she chuckled, and the kids in the audience joined her.  “But the truth is, people, we _don’t_ have it figured out.  We know what _should_ be possible, we know we theoretically _can_ win, but that takes stuff.  It takes bandages, and medicine to save our friend’s lives, it takes silk for parachutes to let people braver than me jump out of planes, it takes food and clothing and tents and trucks.”

“What about bullets and guns,” said a little boy.  “You always say, every bond you buy is a bullet in the barrel of your best guy’s gun.”

“Those are helpful, yeah, and it sounds neat, but honestly, there’s a guy over there from Scotland, name of Mad Jack, he uses a longbow, and makes his own arrows.  Also carries a sword, which is reusable.  Guns are handy, but I think I’d want something like what Mad Jack has.  People forget, because we want to forget, that it’s the little stuff, the extra socks, the tent with no leak, the truck that hasn’t been fixed on the field so often it’s more baling wire than Jeep, that save lives.  I’m not interested in killing people, I just really don’t like bullies, and that’s what the Nazi’s are.  Bullies.  I have a friend over there, great guy.  I want him to have warm feet and a dry bed and a way to get to where he’s going.  I don’t want to think about him killing.  I want to know he’s safe.  I want him to have a Man With a Plan.  So that’s why I’m going to ask you to buy bonds.  They pay for his warm feet and dry bed and hot food, and after all he did making sure I had those when I was your size, I kinda think I owe him one.  Whatd’ya say, folks,” she stood up.  “Will you help me help him?”

The crowd cheered.

“Alright, alright, thank you.  Now you paid for a show, and I know my chorus line is gonna dye my hair with beets if I don’t let ‘em sing, so, I give you, The Star Spangled Singers!”  She walked off stage as the song began.

“What was that?” demanded a short fat man in a suit.

“Even a dancing monkey is occasionally, still, in fact, a monkey.  That, my friend, was emotional honesty.  Try it when you re-write this crap,” she said as she shoved the shield at him.

When she swapped out, her throat burned.  Gulping tea, she opened a link.  _Damn it all, Rogers, I told you not to talk, I just got out of ICU_ , she thought.

_Sorry, I thought you didn’t want me answering a question wrong again.  I didn’t know asking where I was would hurt me._

_You’re an idiot._

<^>

Steve tried not to call her for a full swap into him too often after that, a few co-pilots where she showed him his next show, and an absolutely horrifying experience watching the movie they had made, but he didn’t really call for a swap until he heard he was going to the front and one of the girls staying behind wanted to say goodbye.  Intimately.  Ew, she was like a sister.  He had no idea how to say no without hurting her, but when he reached to pull Darcy in to help him she wasn’t there.  Static, like a badly tuned radio.  It hurt, but maybe he’d done it, the thing she needed of him.  He told Shelly he couldn’t because he’d lost the only girl he loved, and she accepted that.

<^>

War was Hell, the saying went.  But if War was Hell, what was Bucky’s sin that sent him here?  He didn’t think it was being queer, despite what people said.  And some of the dumb kids he was trying to keep alive hadn’t had enough _time_ to do much mortal sinning, he would swear on his parent’s graves Higgins was fourteen.  It was worse than Hell, but it didn’t get close to the big tank, the size of a small house, and the energy weapons and mud jamming his Dad’s Springfield.  He ordered surrender and then watched his men be worked to death.  He worked alongside men who were not his, tried to comfort them when someone died or was taken for Dr. Zola’s experiments and never came back.  Finally, he couldn’t do it anymore.  He got between a skinny black kid from another work gang and a whip, wrapping it around his left arm and gut punching the foreman.

“You’re gonna die now,” the boy said.  “Big white idiot.  You never hit the middle boss, he has enough power to hurt you but not enough to feel content unless he uses it on someone.”

“You wouldn’t have survived that.  I might survive what they do.  Go, you shouldn’t be here.”

“Crazy white boy,” the kid muttered as he hurried off.

The guards took him away, through door nobody returned from, and he felt a tingle as they strapped him in.

_Steve, where the hell **are** you?  How do you go from chorus girls and crappy stage managers to a torture chamber?  What year is it?_

“I’m not him, Doll, but I’m glad you’re here.  Selfish, but I don’t want to die alone.”

 _You can just think it at me, you know_ , Darcy’s voice said in his head.  He’d never heard her talk, but he knew the sweet, sassy female voice was hers. _And you don’t die here.  From the future, remember?_

_Oh.  It’s 43.  When did Steve get chorus girls?_

_42, right after a human experiment for the Army.  He’s Captain America._

_**That** guy?  Oh, God, we all **hate** that guy.  Uh, Darcy, Dollface, you should go, this is probably going to hurt._

_I was there when Steve got experimented on, I can take that.  The question is, do you want to come away for a while?  I can show you the marvels of a psych ward._

_You’re in a nut-house?!?_   Bucky noticed all the inflections were there in his mind-voice.

 _I blew out my voice screaming for no reason when I was partially hooked to Steve during a damn painful Army experiment.  Of course I’m in the nut-house_ , Darcy thought at him. _They think I’m nuttier than a jar of Planter’s Party Mix.  Wouldn’t you?_

 _I think you and Steve are both reckless loons, but then, I just sacrificed myself for some kid I’d never met, and even he thinks I’m crazy, so maybe I’m not in a place to judge_.  If he could have shrugged he would have, but instead, Bucky noticed the feeling of a shrug passing over the link.  It was weird.

_You are a good man, in a world where that is strange and bizarre, of course people think you’re nuts.  Oh, ew, who’s the dweeb?  He needs a make-over like, five years ago._

_That’s Arnim Zola.  He does experiments, the subjects don’t come back._

_You will,_ Darcy thought firmly _.  Now follow me, I’ll show you day time TV, it’s not great, but it is very likely better than Horror-rama over on this side._

Bucky followed her voice in his head as Zola began to ask him questions about his blood, his medical history, other things.  To spite the guy, he set his mouth to recite his name, rank and serial number ad-nauseam. 

Bucky was frankly kind of amazed, seeing Darcy’s world for the first time.  So bright, and TV, oh, man, Steve had told him it was like a movie theater but in your house, that didn’t come close.  The bright colors of the people and the sets… Darcy mentally laughed at him when he wanted to watch the show about price-guessing for an hour, two shows.  But the stuff was so colorful, and the prices were bizarrely high, although she did tell him about inflation, and how the minimum wage went up to $7.25 an hour and was actually enforced.  He almost cheered when the lady won a new car, but Darcy shoved him back hard enough he caught a glimpse of a needle going into his arm before bouncing back.

 _Sorry,_ she thought to him.  _My vocals are pretty destroyed and the last time I let Steve have them, I got them back sore and itchy._

_It’s fine, Doll, you told me that they were hurt, I should have had better control of myself._

_Shut up and watch your game-shows, Bucky, but after this one I’m switching to Days, they just had a major reveal about Rafe seeing his evil twin making time with Sami.  I need to know how that falls out.  And no judging me, you watched back to back Price is Right._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Solar plexus- in the same area as the diaphragm, and crucial to getting air properly.  
> Meat-wagon- ambulance.  
> Class acts- really classy people.  
> ICU- intensive care unit.  
> Baling wire- a tough wire used to make hay-bales and often referred to when talking about a hasty repair made with inadequate materials.  
> Dollface- a slight variant on Doll, used mostly when the man saying it was in/about to be in trouble with the woman he was saying it to.  
> Psych ward/nut-house- psychological hospital. The patients are the "nuts"  
> Planter's Party Mix- a mix of many types of nut.  
> Dweeb- unattractive gross... you know what, just pretend there's a picture of Zola here.
> 
> Notes:  
> Upon further thought on Chapter 2, I decided it was likely Darcy used enough force to severely hurt the guy who's face was thrown into a wall, and given his behavior, he probably had more than one concussion, hence the accidental and off screen death.
> 
> Lesbians or other women in same-sex relationships often moved away from home to a large city and set up as sisters to the public to remain a couple at home. Men in similar situations would arrange double dates with said women, to maintain both covers. So I made Bonnie and Connie a same-sex couple, to maintain the canon of the film and the gay of the fic.
> 
> Kristallnacht was a famous riot/mob action in Germany prior to WWII, prompted by media manipulation, government agents fomenting anger and the general powder-keg that was pre-war Germany.
> 
> Steve's speech-scene literally makes me cringe because of how badly done the propaganda was. Seriously, if he weren't hot, he'd never have sold bonds. Good propaganda is emotionally honest enough to feel like an individual conversation to every viewer.
> 
> Elmo is a popular muppet character on the TV show Sesame Street. There is also a live stage production and little kids go crazy over it. I still own one of Big Bird's feathers from when I went as a child.
> 
> Mad Jack Churchill was a real soldier, who did indeed snipe using a longbow, the last recorded use of one in war. He also carried a claymore sword and was famous for believing that leadership should simultaneously demoralize and confuse the enemy, whilst also convincing your own troops you are too damn crazy to die. It is unclear how many "Mad Jack" stories are true, as he encouraged tall tales and lying about him.
> 
> Higgins is based on the vast number of underage boys who managed to get to the front lines. Children fought that war too.
> 
> Bucky is shown using a modified M1941 Johnson (the Betsy) in the montage, and a different gun in the cut scene of his capture, but the Betsy did not come out until 1941, and his father probably used a Springfield manufactured rifle as those were standard. I chose to have him use his Dad's gun, but it would have been taken upon capture. Thus the replacement later.
> 
> Seperating officers from the troops they command is a great way to produce working groups who won't conspire. However this can backfire if you give them enough reason. See the mix in the cell the Howlies are in, non-unified, but also desegregated and later, very successful.
> 
> Bucky's new favorite show is The Price is Right, a really cheesy game show about guessing the prices of common household goods to win large prizes like cars and living room furniture and trips to the tropics. Darcy's show is Days of Our Lives, a soap opera with lots of convoluted plots like evil twins, people coming back after being presumed dead, and love triangles (wow, it's basically a comic book huh?) See also: telenovella.
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: I forgot the teaser, sorry.
> 
>  
> 
> “I don’t know how to write ‘Squid-Nazis’ because that is not a word.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy handles a new Swap, fights racism, bad marketing, and trigger-happy Commandos.
> 
> Steve deals with not being Darcy's Swap anymore, until he's dealing with a land-mine and a doctor who clearly does not get it.
> 
> Bucky pays attention, notices patterns, sings, and finds out literally nobody cares he's queer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love-Fest! To quadrad, Aderendal, ValkyriePhoenix, Joey99, iwanttoreadmore, Notashamed, SerialObsessor (DlStar71), aquadrop25, halfelf87, Angelbratt, Maedae84, LaughingCat, Shadows_of_Shemai, Crystallea1321, UltraCute, Musichowler, Tenshinrtaiga, Pen37, Ye, merrysoul, pianobookworm, SionnachOiche3, mouseymightymarvellous, tigrislilium, and the SEVENTY-SIX new kudo-ers, where are you all coming from??? This is now my most kudo-ed, commented, and highest hit-count work, beating out the runners up by over a hundred kudos, 279 comments, and over 2k hits. Sweet Thor, you guys!

It was weird to swap with someone other than Steve.  Bucky didn’t need her to come fight his battles, he just needed to get away from his body.  When Steve came the next day, which had been a month or so, apparently, Darcy went on a ride-along with him.  She temporarily took over the mouth to swear Steve a blue streak, then got the men moving again.  If there was one thing Darcy Lewis could do, it was make men hop to at her order.  She cussed out one guy for laying into Morita, obviously shocking all of them.

“Do you even know one fucking thing about him?  Fresno, California, recruited from a fucking prison camp _we_ fucking built.  Innocent kids behind barbed wire in the so called ‘land of the free’.  Segregated and distrusted despite being willing to fight and die and _kill_ for a country that holds his family prisoner for the crime of their heritage.  That sound familiar, maybe, Private?  Locking up little kids because they got the wrong ancestors?  You treat that man with respect, or so help me I will shoot you in the foot and leave you here.  Understood?”  Her eyes drilled into him, then dismissed him as unworthy of her time.  “What are you morons waiting for?  Move out, we have miles to go before we sleep gents, so double time it.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Morita said later.

“The hell I didn’t,” Darcy and Bucky said together.  She sent him a mental smile.

She got them back, watched Carter try to flirt with Steve and fail, because Steve was an oblivious little shit who just wanted to tease her.

She blinked back into her hospital room and ate some jello, then got pulled under again.  Bucky was with the team, and Darcy had to blink back tears when she saw Dugan, so young and full of life, and mostly just plain alive.  They’d leveled a building and Darcy wasn’t sure why she was here, every danger was gone, dead, shuffled forcibly off the mortal coil, an ex-threat.  But everyone was staring at a bit of wall with the Hydra symbol on it.

“Alright, that’s wrong, and it really needs to change,” she said after some contemplation.  “Anybody got paint?”

“You gonna do a Kilroy Sarge?” Morita asked.

“Naw, more personal.  Jones, you speak German, can you transcribe me a letter, beside that?”

“Yeah, what do you want written?”

“Dear Mr. Schmidt, upon further contemplation we have decided your logo was poorly thought out.  A hydra of Greek mythology had many heads and one serpentine body.  Your logo has one head and many tentacles.  Therefore, beginning immediately, we shall be referring to your organization as Squid-Nazis.  Sincerely, the Howling Commandos.”  Jones painted as she spoke, then paused.

“I don’t know how to write ‘Squid-Nazis’ because that is not a word,” he told her.

“Technically, neither is Nazi, it’s short for National Socialist, and I maintain the validity of the name Squid-Nazis as superior to Hydra, as that is _clearly_ not a hydra.  Do it in English.”

“Howling Commandos?” Dugan asked as Jones finished, adding his own arrows and notes to the red logo.

“To quote you, wahoo,” she said evenly.  She was still smiling at his laughter when she surfaced next to an empty thing of jello.  The clock told her only 35 seconds had passed.  She still had some energy left, so Darcy focused on her boys until she dropped again.

They were moving through some woods, and Monty disappeared.  Darcy had a bad gut-feeling, so she followed him.  He had a guy at gun-point who was babbling in German.  A guy she knew.

“Opa?”  Her voice, James’ voice, broke a little.

“Nein, no.  Unwed, no children.  Und far too young,” he added disgruntled.

“James Montgomery Falsworth, you put that fucking rifle down or I will snap your skinny British neck like a twig,” she ordered.  The other Howlies showed up.

“Buck, what’s going on?”

“For once, Steve, _I’m_ the one having a Code Darcy and you cannot kill this man.  He needs to defect, go help the code breakers in Bletchley Park, meet Alan Turing, then in five years get tracked down by a librarian in Missouri.  Corporal Bahrenburg, if you do all that, I can promise you a good, happy life and a grand-daughter who adores her Opa.”

“Bahrenburg?  You mean _he’s_ your….  He’s **German**!”

“Steve, Bahrenburg is a _German_ name.”

“Darce, you’re a Jew!  You _know_ what they’re doing.”

“On Dad’s side, yeah, but Opa wasn’t privy to the information on the camps until shortly before he ran into the woods and defected.  He _did not_ do those things, Steve.  He _did_ get me the best presents for Chanukah.  Although, I think he and my Aunt were in some kind of bidding war.  And Bubbie Lewis taught him how to make really good latkes.  I’m not letting you hurt my grandfather, Steve.  It was bad enough when he… the first time, I mean.  He’s family, and you do **not** touch my family unless you want to bleed.  _You_ got bigger, but _I’m_ the one who brought down Mac the Mountain and I’ve only gotten better.  Do not make me choose.”

“Ok, alright,” Steve said, hands up.  “Let him go guys, Mr. Bahrenburg, sir, I hope you are ready to defect.”

“I vas planning to.  Hyur friend, is he… ein Zauberer?”

“If I am, so’s your wife, Opa.  I go where and when I’m needed.  So does she.  We save people.  Now come on, we’re getting you to Turing.”

They got him to base with a solid recommendation that he be put on the Enigma project, and then Darcy had to face the music with the Howlies.  She explained the basics, Steve backed her up, and they took it pretty well.  Of course when you’re fighting a guy who’s head looks like a Halloween mask and he’s making weapons from science fiction, you accept a lot.  She hugged Dugan extra tight.

“When a dumb seventeen-year-old girl calls you about all this, leave me out unless you think you are really and truly never going to speak to Darcy Lewis again.  Got me?”

“Copy that, Lieutenant.”

“Barnes is a Sargent.”

“And you out-rank him, seems like.  Cap too, but Sarge already does.  You’re our Lieutenant Liberty, like Lady Liberty but with rank.”

“You are six kinds of crazy, Dum-Dum, never change.”

<^>

Steve wasn’t sure how he felt about Darcy swapping with Bucky.  On one hand, it was good to know she kept him mostly sane in Zola’s lab, on the other, this was way against any and all of the things they had read about Swaps.  One pair, always, never two.  It seemed dangerous.  Of course, he could hear Darcy’s voice calling him a hypocrite even without the swap.  Maybe it was some jealousy too.  But that was crazy, he loved both of them, why would he get mad they were getting to know each other?  It still felt like a gaping hole in him, a Darcy shaped spot she should be in.  Soon, he started to wonder why he’d lost her.  Then he switched with her as he stepped on a mine.

_Darcy, don’t move.  We’re on a land mine._

_It’s fine, Steve.  I got this._

“Dernier, get your French ass over here, I stepped on something,” she called at a normal speaking voice, as Steve watched in co-pilot mode.  Someone was trying to talk to her, but he pushed that away, he wanted to be there if it went bad.  A hand touched her shoulder and he flicked it away as he stared out his own eyes in her body.  Dernier stood next to her in a moment.  “Can you identify it?”

“Topfmine.”

“Motherfuck!  I’m standing on a mildly radioactive anti-tank mine?  Okay, calming breaths, you do not weigh 330 pounds, what shape is it and does it have a separate raised plate?”  Darcy knew about anti-tank mines?  And what the hell was ‘radioactive’?  Did the mine have some kind of signal device?

“Mademoiselle Darcy?”  Steve rolled his eyes, of course it was Darcy, Jacques!

“Yes, now tell me what it looks like,” she said sternly.

“Round, raised plate, only, you’re on it, so it’s mostly down,” Jones said from beside Dernier.  “Not all the way, though, if it’s anti-tank it might only detonate if you move.”

“Ok, dump water in the cracks and creases.  Series A Topfmines were vulnerable to water killing them.”  A few moments passed and Darcy eased Steve’s foot back as she eased him back in control.

“You are one lucky son of a bitch, Rogers,” Morita told him.

“You’re telling me!  She’s been doing this since we were sixteen.  Took out a guy twice my size, my current size, he was three or four of me then.  She’s a judo artist.  Second dan, she said.”

“Really?  Me too.  Not a dan, though, she must be good.”

“She is, but why am I just now hearing about you?  That’s a valuable asset, Morita.”

“I was Nisei, nobody trusts the Nisei and their sneaky yellow man magic tricks.”

“I do, I’d be crazy not to after how many times she saved me with judo, and the only two dans I know are Darcy, who’s as white as me, and Sensei Thorpe, who’s four shades darker than Jones.  You use that judo if it makes sense to do so.”

The next time they swapped, Steve had been facing a giant pair of energy guns wielded by a Hydra solider.  She shoved him all the way out and he had to handle a doctor asking him questions about possible trauma and fugue states.

“I’m not in a fucking fugue state, you quack, I’m busy.  Mentally.  I just don’t want to be disturbed while I’m working.”

The doctor spluttered and Steve switched out to find two neat holes in the gun-man’s head and neck armor and stood up before the pooling blood got to him.  Over the radio on his belt, Bucky chastised him for getting in his line of fire.

<^>

Bucky noticed a pattern, between swaps.  If either was in direct danger, that’s who Darcy swapped with.  If they needed to not do something, or be cheered up, or otherwise helped without direct life-saving, then Darcy went to him.  His nightmares were replaced by Darcy filling in coloring book pages, and Steve’s reckless side was curbed by Darcy’s words coming from his mouth.  She took over one night in the dead of winter to tell the guys stories from the future.  She told them a story about space-ships and broken people making a family that would die for one another, and doing something right if you couldn’t do something smart.  She told them another about a crazy billionaire building a flying suit of armor to fight for people who were hurt with things he made.  She told them about a girl who killed vampires and defied gods and demons.  She told them about a green giant saving a teacher from a crazy general with too many guns, then defeating a monster in Harlem.  She spoke of redemption, and of love, and told stories of a sort of tragedy that was so different from what they saw every day that it was relaxing.  She told them stories for hours until every last one dropped off to sleep.  It was a good night, he thought.

He worried, same as Steve did about how she was being treated.  Even though months passed for them, sometimes not even a full day was marked off for Darcy.  Her throat burned from throwing up pills she didn’t need, and her arms were marked with needle punctures.  When she knocked him fully out to do something about a life-or-death thing, he tried to answer the doctors as best he could, but some of their questions made very little sense to him.  He tried to go to the groups they wanted her to go to, but some of them made no sense either, like Music Therapy, although he did like some of the songs.

In his own life, War remained worse than Hell.  He saw too many men die bloody and hard.  He held one poor kid’s hand and kept him from looking at the ruin of his leg below the tourniquet as they waited for the medics.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Sousa, Danny Sousa.”

“Name like that, you a Catholic?”

“You gonna do last rights Sarge?”

“Nah, I’m a filthy, sinnin’ heathen anyhow, but I do got a good song for ya.”

Danny Sousa spasmed in the snow from pain with a low moan.  He gripped Bucky’s hand hard and Bucky started humming to get the tune.

“When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom, ‘let it be’,” he started, singing low about despair and hope and wisdom and answers until the medics came.

“I’m glad Darcy didn’t see that,” he said later, to nobody in particular.  The group hmm’ed in agreement.  “I know she’s tough as steel, but….”

“But you love the girl,” said Jones.  He looked at everyone staring at him.  “What?  He does!  I got eyes.”

“Jones,” Monty started, “you never noticed anything… unusual about our Captain and our Sergeant?  One of those things one simply… forgets to mention?”

“Well, yeah, Cap and Buck are an item, doesn’t stop either of ‘em pining over the Lieu.”  He took another bite of cold canned peas.

“Wait,” Steve said, “you all knew, about….”

“You aren’t precisely subtle, Steven,” Peggy told him as she poured herself a whisky and sat down.  “Phillips and I have been running interference for you against the higher-ups, and I’m very sure your men have done the same with the troops.”

“They can say what they want, long as they never say it where we can hear it,” Morita added, trying to steal Peggy’s whisky bottle and getting smacked on the hand for it.

“Sweet on the Lieu, though, I never saw that,” Dum-Dum admitted.  “She pretty?”

Jaques said something in French that cracked Jones up and made Carter smile.  Yeah.  Bucky was glad Darcy hadn’t seen it, but he wished he could show her this, Jones doubled over, Dernier looking smug, the slight smile on Peggy’s face as Dum-Dum begged for a translation.  Falsworth lifting the bottle to pour some for himself and Morita.  Steve’s loopy smile.  Their friends knew, and they blessed the union.  The thing worse than Hell was a little more bearable for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Swear a blue streak- to cuss until you run out of breath, to really lay into someone verbally.  
> A Kilroy- a little symbol of a guy looking over a fence, signed Kilroy was here! to demoralize the enemy. (For a while there at least one German official was SURE that Kilroy was a high-level operative of extreme prowess.)  
> Opa (German)- Grandpa.  
> Bubbie (Yiddish)- Grandma.  
> Latkes- potato pancakes, often served at Jewish holidays, very yummy.  
> ein Zauberer (German)- a sorcerer, the male equivalent of hexen, or witch, as far as I could tell (German speakers, please correct me if I did this wrong.)  
> Topfmine- a type of German anti-tank landmine made of cardboard and glass to escape metal detection, coated in mildly radioactive tar for waterproofing and detection by Geiger counter.  
> Dan- a black belt in Judo, but there are still levels, second dan is also called second degree black belt.  
> Nisei- the Japanese-American troops.  
> Fugue state- an absence of all emotion or response to outside stimuli, a common symptom of trauma or certain psychoses.  
> Quack- a doctor who doesn't know what they're doing, an insult.
> 
> Notes:  
> The things Darcy describes happening to Morita did happen to Nisei soldiers.
> 
> Darcy references the "Dead Parrot" skit by Monty Python with the "gone, dead, shuffled forcibly off the mortal coil, an ex-threat." line.
> 
> Alan Turing, famous code breaker, worked at Bletchly Park, Hut 8, cracking the Enigma code. It took several years, but he did succeed.
> 
> Many German soldiers were not told the true nature of the camps, and many who found out defected. There are stories of a whole platoon going missing, only to turn up ten years later as naturalized French citizens with families, because the found out and quit.
> 
> Lieutenants rank above Sergeants but below Captains, and are the lowest Commissioned Officer rank. Of course, the Howlies all know who wears the highest rank in this triad...
> 
> Series A Topfmines were indeed vulnerable to the explosives getting wet, although I found no record of purposely dousing one to disarm it. Steve does not recognize the word 'radioactive' because it did not leave science-circles and enter common language until AFTER the bombings of Nagasaki and Hiroshima. 'Radio' to him indicated a broadcast signal.
> 
> Coloring books are often found in the better mental hospitals, they are very soothing.
> 
> The stories are, in order Firefly/Serenity, Tony Stark's I am Iron Man thing from her real life, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and the Hulk Incident (which happened on her campus).
> 
> While a legitimate mental illness can be greatly improved with pharmacology, and I would never advise purging a prescription, anti-psychotics when given to non-psychotic patients can produce psychosis. Darcy is protecting her body here, because magic body-swap time travel stuff. DO NOT DO. Also, for those scared, the needle marks are not injections, they're from blood draws. Psych wards do those, to monitor chemical levels in the blood as they mess with medication to avoid harming the patient.
> 
> The song is "Let it be." by the Beatles.
> 
> A number of WWII troops knew about and respected the love-lives of gay soldiers, the Howlies are not too progressive here. If you knew, you just never told anyone who would have to dishonorably discharge the guys in question, because you needed them covering you in a fight. If an officer knew, he did his level best to lie his ass off covering. The only really progressive thing is Jones (and later the rest) accepting that they are ALSO poly and want that sweet Darcy lovin'.
> 
> Cold canned goods were a common staple, Peggy's booze, less so.
> 
>  
> 
> Teaser:
> 
>  
> 
> “Yes you are, you’re great, you’re a mensch, now shut up. I know what a busted voice box sounds like, remember?”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy gets a handle on things, plays with clay, and uses Jewish Guilt for the forces of good.
> 
> Steve is a Very Good Little Captain because he really wants to jail-break another camp, pretty please?
> 
> Bucky is just glad they have some goddamn help this time, even if one does make Steve worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Fest! To Vaughn_Tyler, quadrad, SerialObsessor (DlStar71), Notashamed, ValkyriePhoenix, Iffi, halfelf87, Joey99, merrysoul, BloodElf, RansLover, Shadows_of_Shemai, pianobookworm, Elisa, CrazyScifiChick, LaughingCat, Pen37, Ye, SailorRoxy, Musichowler, AliceMadisonParker, iwanttoreadmore, UniversalKatie, MarieHermosa, Crystallea1321, mouseymightymarvellous, SionnachOiche3, and any new kudo-ers. (there is a glitch that made my Kudo counter thing go back to 0 on my display, but still places this at the top of my sort by kudos list, so...I don't know).
> 
> A quick extra thank you to Iffi for reassuring me my German was decent, and to SailorRoxy who has updated the Official Soundtrack.

Darcy struggled with the balance of war-zones and psych ward.  At least they let her sleep as much as she wanted to, now.  She had been in for three weeks, according to her calendar.  It felt like years.  She tried to keep the pills out and food in, and she made sure to fill up on healthy stuff so her belly wouldn’t hurt if one of the boys needed to borrow it while she saved them.

She practiced meditation and got in extra rest that way, to keep her mind sharp for the swaps.  She struggled to maintain some kind of normal, as her doctors praised her progress in group therapy sessions she only half the time actually went to.  Steve left her a pencil sketch of a very pretty woman who might be Darcy, sitting on the gun of a tank, putting on lipstick.  The face was turned in side profile, but the compact mirror showed a crooked smirk that was kinda wicked.  Her art therapist thought it was a good sign for her self-image.  Then of course there was the time she got back from kicking ass to find pretty decent play-dough replicas of each Howlie.  Not in uniform or carrying weapons, just little figurines of her friends.  Play-dough Steve had a tiny split lip, small enough it could be a crack from the drying, except Steve _had_ miscalculated the rebound of the shield and currently did have a busted lip that everyone teased him over.  She turned play-dough Peggy Carter over, and scratched in was Peggy’s name, and the initials JBB.  They all had the names scratched in, and they all had JBB.  She arranged them together on the craft table and grabbed some tan modeling clay, the kind that didn’t set up unless you baked it.  She wasn’t as good with manual dexterity as Bucky, so she made vaguely humanoid blobs, using her nails to show them dripping like Clayface in the old Batman animated series.  Then she had them lined up on the other side, opposing the Howlies.

“That’s very interesting, Darcy, can you tell us what it is?” asked the art therapist.

“Well, those are the Howling Commandos,” she pointed to the figurines Bucky made.  “And those are the Dough Boys, mindless monsters created by mad Nazi scientist Arnim Zola.  They were sent to capture Steve and Bucky, but the other Howlies are going to smash them.”  She picked up mini-Dugan and brought his base down on the still soft modeling clay of a Dough Boy.  “Wahoo.”

“And that one?  Is that you?” the therapist asked, pointing to the little frowning female figure in the red dress.  Huh, Darcy had never noticed she looked a little like Agent Carter.

“I _wish_ , no that’s Peggy Carter.  She’s the best Commando.  She does everything Cap does, backwards and in heels, like Ginger Rogers.  Heh, Rogers.”

“That’s interesting.  Which one do you think you’re most like?”

“Steve and Bucky,” she said instantly.  “And a little bit Jones and Dernier.  I’m reckless like Steve, stubborn like Bucky and sassy like Dernier and Jones.  Can I go nap now?”

“Yes, but lunch is soon.”

“Okie-dokie smoky!”  Darcy went back to her room with a pilfered bit of modeling clay.  She turned it into a little heart shape and closed her eyes to drop into another horrifying event.

<^>

Steve had pretty well worked his ass off to get Phillips to let him hit a civilian prison camp.  Glad-handed until he thought even his super endurance would fail, let the press film him, refrained from knocking the block _completely_ off the guy who called Gabe something so bad he wasn’t willing to even think it.  He hadn’t even done anything that would get him killed in a _month_ , and everyone was upset they hadn’t gotten to see Darcy.  But it was going to be worth it.  They needed some extra man-power, so Peggy called a cousin who played poker with a guy in the Canadian Rangers, and Monty called in ‘an absolute loon, but good at his job’ from his training days in the British Airforce.  Pinkerton had flown the plane Monty’s old squad last flew in.  Dugan called up some people he knew, and Morita got his old captain to come out for the mission.

Everybody except Morita and Jones did a double take at Captain ‘Happy Sam’ Sawyer.

“He’s negro,” Dugan said with a confused voice.

“You don’t really think the Generals were going to let a bunch of Nisei lead themselves, did you?” Morita asked him.

“No, because the Top Brass are all idiots, but I kind of assumed they’d put an incompetent white man in charge of shit he couldn’t handle.  It’s a very well-established pattern.”

Happy Sam laughed, “how’d you get the big one to learn that?” he asked Morita.

“Not me, Sir, that was all the Lieu.  She threatened to hobble a guy behind lines and leave him there if he disrespected the Nisei.  Never got a bad word since, except the ass who insists the Cardinals have no good players.  Glaviano is gonna make it, swear to you.”

“That’s an argument you’ve had with everybody Jim, it’s not a Nisei thing, it’s a Fresno thing.  You sound like a damn fine woman, ma’am,” he said to Peggy, who smiled and didn’t clarify.

“Why don’t we all go somewhere a little more secure,” she suggested.  “Everyone here has been read in, but your drivers have not.”

Inside the Command building, Steve began to debrief them.  “So, out intel tells us a separate branch of Hydra is operating on a more “organic form of war” at this facility.”

“Biologics, Sir?” Corporal Juniper asked.

“No, a little more human.  They want a Superman.  Some of the people who got rounded up are, let’s call it special, and they want to replicate it.  Be prepared for some nasty things, gents.  These are the kinds of guys who smash clocks to find out what makes them go tick.  And now, they have _people_ to study.  It will not be pretty.”

“No offence, Captain,” Pinkerton said, “but how special could they be?  Human is human.  I was promised a thrill ride, not a standard camp-cracker.”

“This room secure?” Howlett asked.  It was the first time the Ranger had spoken.  Steve nodded.  Howlett growled, held up his fists, and nobody questioned the motivations behind the mission again.

“Cap?” Dugan asked a few hours into planning.  “Do we have any word on this from the, uh, back channels?”

“Not an option,” Bucky answered him.  “There are enough problems on that end.  We do not activate unless Code Darcy becomes the only way.”

“You have a spy?” Sawyer asked.

“We got a ‘something you aren’t cleared for’, son,” Steve said firmly.  “Unless a Code Darcy becomes necessary, we do not speak of this again.”

They hit the base at night.  Pinkerton dropped them off, and after the others were out, Howlett looked at Steve.  “Race you down,” he said and jumped without a chute.  Steve laughed and did the same, bouncing around trees to slow his fall.  Bucky shook his head, and slapped Steve’s.

<^>

Bucky saw things in that compound he really wanted sand-blasted from his mind.  The experiments, the torture, the records.  He looked at the papers detailing the powers of these special people, kids, mostly, and torched the whole office.  Nobody was going to hunt them for being unique if he had a say.  A commotion drew him to a building where Steve was pinned to a wall with his own shield by a kid in a glass cage with a nose-bleed.  Steve coughed and Bucky reached for Darcy.  She slammed into him so hard that he popped over to her enough to see a little clay heart on a desk before re-routing and going to do a ride-along.

“Hey, kid.  Do you speak English?”

No response.  Bucky’s focus darted to the outstretched arm.  Numbers, a letter.  He felt Darcy see it too.

“Vos volt deyn muter trakhtn?”

“Vas?”

“Haltn es itst, iung mentsh.”

“Ir zent idishe?”

“Close enough.”  Bucky watched Darcy unshoulder his rifle, the modified Betsy he got after Zola, and smack the butt dramatically but with little force on the ground.  “LET MY CAPTAIN GO!” she said, pointing firmly at Steve.  The shield wobbled and he got a gasp of air.  Bucky wanted to run to him, but Darcy was driving.  Instead she walked over to the cage, tapped it a few places, and waved the kid back before hurling a brutal side kick into the glass.  It spider-web cracked, and she tapped the fracture some.  She went to Steve, pinned but not in danger and tugged the shield.  It didn’t budge.

“SERIOUSLY!  A man walks in with a star on his shield and you don’t…”  _Bucky, do you have chalk?_

_Yes, right-hand vest pocket._

She pulled out the white stick and sketched a six pointed star on the shield.  Pointing at it, she said “I need this.”

“David of the Goyim,” Steve rasped out.

“Yes you are, you’re great, you’re a mensch, now shut up.  I know what a busted voice box sounds like, remember?”  Turned back to the boy, she pointed again.  The shield fell free, she scooped it up and brought the edge down hard on the crack, shattering the front.  “There ya go.  Oops, no, you have bare feet, here,” she said as she turned to offer a piggy-back ride.  “Take the shield, Steve, I thought that thing was supposed to be _light_.”

“Darcy?”

“My Yiddish give me away?  I do not know that much.  Only enough to activate potent and repressed Jew-guilt.  Mostly because I was a little shit as a kid and Bubbie used it on all of us.  Every Lewis cousin was terrified of upsetting her.  My Uncle Levi still is, and he’s fifty.”

“Wow, and they said us Catholics were bad.”  Darcy’s laugh faded into his mind as he got the kid into an appropriated truck and Jones drove the freed prisoners to a safe-house that would smuggle them back across the lines.

“Be good, kid,” Bucky said as he ruffled the boy’s hair.  “No more hitting the good guys.  Yo, Howlett, you can ponder the meaning of life later,” he called as he pulled him away from his sniffing the air.  Lowly, he said to the other man “Kid’s like you, but not, leave it.”

“Yeah, better that way… but still.  If Vic weren’t such a….”

“You got troubles at home?”  He cocked a brow.

“Not those kinds, brother thing.  Probably make a terrible parent anyhow.  Kids’d all grow up bloodthirsty.”

“Hey, you got a better shot than me, pal.  My girl is more long-distance than you can imagine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Play-dough- an American brand (I think, it may have been made elsewhere) of hard drying modeling clay used in children's crafts and art therapy.  
> Clayface- a DC comics villain who looked a lot like a humanoid blob of dripping tan goo. Batman was the primary hero who fought him.  
> Okie-dokie smoky!- a very chipper and annoying way of saying yes.  
> Glad-hand- to shake peoples hands as a way of getting them to give you stuff, hated by many of the people who actually need the stuff because "we have a problem and you want me to wear a tux?"  
> Knocking the block off someone- to hit them so hard their head might as well have fallen off. Steve only punched the guy a little.  
> Top Brass- the highest Army leadership.  
> Hobble- lame, as in damage ability to move.  
> Read in- given clearance to know something upon swearing an oath not to reveal in.  
> Biologics- biological weapons, from Anthrax to Bubonic Plague, nasty and feared since the day someone decided to put a leper corpse in a catapult and see if it would break a siege.  
> Superman- in this case, NOT referring to the Man of Steel, but the philosophic idea of the perfect human, better in every way. See Weapon X for more crazies trying to make that happen.  
> Camp-cracker- a mission to liberate a prison camp. Generally awful and depressing.  
> Back-channels- someone not in the official line of communication. Normally a spy or double agent.  
> Cleared- given clearance to know.  
> Chute- in this case, a parachute.  
> Torched- lit on fire.  
> The yiddish conversation means roughly "What would your mother say?" "What?" "Stop that right now, young man." "You're a Jew?" My yiddish is not very good.  
> Mensch (Yiddish)- a person of honor and goodness.
> 
> Notes:
> 
> Yes, Darcy is still in the hospital, she gets out next chapter, they are not that horrible and can really help, stop asking like it's a torture chamber. I have actual torture for you to be mad at me for.
> 
> Art therapy can take many forms. Steve likes to draw (duh) during his, but Bucky prefers things he can hold, he's more tactile with his art. Play-dough figures acting out fantasies are common tools in art therapy, blending art and play therapy methods.
> 
> Dough Boys were a comic-canon creation of Arnim Zola, and looked as described. They are not canon in this verse, and Darcy calls them that because the name also was used as a slightly derogatory term for soldiers in the First World War.
> 
> The line about Peggy being like Ginger Rogers comes from Hayley Atwell, who plays Peggy. Ginger Rogers was an actress who did very impressive dance scenes with actor Fred Astaire, only as the woman, did them backwards and in heels.
> 
> Pinkerton, Sawyer and Juniper appear as back-up Howlies in an episode of Agent Carter, these are their backgrounds in canon, with the exception of Juniper who got recruited by means unknown.
> 
> Nisei were NEVER led by an Asiatic American, even if not of Japanese decent. Segregation laws and regulations would have made leading the Nisei a "shit detail" or punishment work for a white man. Hence Happy Sam being black.
> 
> The Fresno Cardinals were a minor league baseball team and Glaviano did indeed have a major league career.
> 
> Yes, Howlett is Logan, although right now his name is James Howlett and he has all his memories. There were too many James's so I'm only using his last name.
> 
> Logan and Steve did this in a flash back in an X-Men comic where Wolverine got his memory back briefly. It's still insane, even with the Serum, to try slow-falls from a plane.
> 
> They keep getting it wrong in the movies, but Magneto would have had a J at the start of his numbers, because he was Jewish.
> 
> Darcy's pantomime is of the scene in the Passover story where Moses demands that the Pharaoh let his people go. The rifle serves as a staff here.
> 
> She is checking the density of the glass when tapping, allowing her to better break it. This is an advanced technique, but Darcy is pretty advanced herself.
> 
> Jews and Catholics are often compared by the guilt that seems endemic in those cultural mores. Jewish Guilt and Catholic Guilt are concepts most people of both faiths know of, even if they never feel it. I know this bit seems disrespectful, but it is in fact a transcription with minor changes of a conversation had between my Catholic mother and her Jewish Goddaughter. Don't ask me how that happened, Debbie made the choice and you never argue with Aunt Debbie. I'm neither Jewish nor Catholic and she can guilt me.
> 
> Teaser:
> 
>  
> 
> “Oh, this is rich, absolute comedy gold, somebody give that man an Oscar. Oh, oh wait, you weren’t lying. You seriously thought it took someone special? It only takes someone human.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy leaves the hospital, goes on two more missions with the Howlies, and takes up a mission of her own.
> 
> Steve deals with things in his own way, and some things will happen even when everyone tries to stop them
> 
> Bucky gets very very lost.
> 
> Yup, it's that chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Fest! To quadrad, ValkyriePhoenix, Notashamed, SerialObsessor (DlStar71), BloodElf, Pen37, merrysoul, Elisa, pianobookworm, LaughingCat, halfelf87, Maedae84, Crystallea1321, iwanttoreadmore, muffinheadoo, tigrislilium, hafizatulsufiahyaacob, kittykatdennings94, ValkyrieGunn, Matlida_Nicki, Joey99, SionnachOiche3, Shadows_of_Shemai, Ye, and Flaremage. And to all the new kudo-ers, the count being broken makes it hard to know how many of you there are, but thank you.
> 
> Alright, brace yourselves. It's the Train & Plane. You read at your own risk.

Darcy got a handle on the rapid swaps, controlling their timing until it was convenient and pretending they didn’t happen.  She put on a happy face, demonstrated her improved mental state (partly by lying her ass off, she was pretty sure she had mental scarring if not straight PTSD from all the war shit), and was released.  She still needed six credits to graduate, but the way people looked at her now was kind of unbearable.  Her adviser told her to look into internships, they could give her the credits without going to any more classes.  So Darcy, in between short trips to fix something, filled out every single internship application that did not involve staying on campus.  She even filled out one for the _Latverian Embassy_ and was actually relieved when she got the polite, handwritten refusal.  For a crazy dictator, Von Doom wasn’t half bad at writing a gracious rejection letter that didn’t make Darcy feel bad about it.

She got in to one as Dr. Foster’s research assistant doing field work in New Mexico, which was odd, Foster was in astrophysics, and Darcy was… not a hard science girl.  But it was the only acceptance letter, so she booked a flight to New Mexico, three stops, no plane transfers, plenty of time to do another swap or two before landing.

She slid down into Bucky as the plane took off.  He was pinned down in a small… fuck.  He was on a train.  Dugan had told her he fell off a train.  No trains, trains bad.  Of course Dum-Dum had told her he saw Bucky, too, right before Buck’s voice told her to back off.  Right after Bucky killed… oh god.

_Darce, you alright?  Your hands are shaking on my side.  And the lady wants to know what you drink, I asked for a Ginger Ale, it was familiar and I’m nauseous, that good?_

_I’ll be fine, ginger ale is fine.  Hold on, I’m getting Steve._

She did something she wasn’t sure could be done, but then, she and Steve had done the theoretically impossible before, just to watch movies together.  She and Bucky had broken the rules of the swaps because he needed her.  She was certain there was very little that the three of them couldn’t do.  So she swapped over to Steve.  She got a psychic foot in the door and showed him Bucky’s view-point.

_On my way,_ Steve thought at her

_If you could hurry, Steve, that’d be good,_ she told him.

_Let him take his time, Doll, I’m not going anywhere,_ came Bucky’s mental voice.  _Planes are fun._

_YOU AREN’T GOING ANYWHERE BECAUSE YOU ARE PINNED DOWN WITH ENEMY FIRE, BUCKY!_ The two thought in unison.

Huh, mental stereo, Darcy thought only to herself.  That could be useful for yelling at Steve later.

She snapped back to Bucky.  She was pretty good with a side-arm now, although she’d never be able to do his sniping, and just enough shots gave Steve room to get in to take out the others.  Grabbing the shield to protect Steve wasn’t even a question.  She had been saving his ass since he was a kid, since _she_ was a kid, and that Hydra bastard was _not_ going to take him away.  Not from her, not from Bucky.  The blast took out the side wall of the cabin, but Darcy locked her foot around a bolted shelf support and fired again.  Steve hit the guy with a solid shot and Darcy turned to smile at him with a feral grin.  The next she knew, she was clinging to the rail of the deformed wall of the train and Steve was coming to get her.

“Grab my hand!”

“Stop moving, you idiot, you weigh 240 pounds, you’ll snap the bar!”

“Damn it Darcy, GRAB MY HAND!”

Darcy reached, but her hands were cramped from holding the bar and numb from the freezing wind whipping by them.  Her foot shifted on iced up metal, her hand grazed Steve’s, and she slipped.

_I’m so sorry Bucky._

<^>

Steve wasn’t sure there was any worse feeling than seeing both his loves plummet, until Darcy’s mind collided with his and he felt her grief, her memories of falling, of knowing she’d fall, of not being able to stop it.  _He died a hero, people are going to remember what he did, I swear Steve._

_If they remember, if you knew, why didn’t you tell us!_

_Like you came clean in undergrad about reading Anne Frank?_

_How was I supposed to know!_

_All my post-it’s were pink!  And you could have told me after!_

_…you would have been mad._

_I was mad, I knew you’d read it when I found my book mark in the wrong page.  I never yelled at you.  I loved him too.  I wanted to stop this, I did what I could, we both did._

_It wasn’t enough._

_No.  It really wasn’t._

They mourned together, and when Jones came to get them, Steve wasn’t sure if it was him or Darcy telling the story.  He finally pushed her away when the doubled loss was too hard to take.

The Howlies grieved together, got really horrifically drunk in the bombed out shell of the once bright and happy bar they’d first come together at, and when others came, they helped the inebriated core Howlies leave.  Howlett sat next to Steve and slugged back half a bottle of whisky before handing it to Steve, who finished it.  They drank most of the bar’s stock together in silence.

“I get you lost someone you love.  But your men need you,” the Canadian said when the last Howlie (Dernier, still swearing in slurred French about magnificent pastries as he fell off his stool) hit the floor to be hauled away.

Steve flicked his eyes at James Howlett.  He liked the man, he was a capable soldier and he still had functioning empathy, two things that hardly ever happened together if you’d been military long enough, and he knew some of Howlett’s history.  Enough to know Howlett was more senior than anybody in any armed forces except maybe his older brother, he’d seen all the things that should make a man give up on humanity and then some.  But he wasn’t sure he _trusted_ Howlett.

“Buck was like a broth-”

“I don’t do those things with _my_ brother, bub, rethink your defense.  ‘S not like I care you two were lovers.  You were damn good together, and Barnes was a good man, a good soldier, and he was never scared of what I could do.  I owe him for that, and if you think he’d want me to keep my trap shut I will.  But no man in this bar will make your loss lesser for the nature of it.  I know these guys.  They’ve served with men who were more than friends or family, and they respected that, admired it, even, that you’d come and fight for a country that still thinks you’re crazy to love someone.  _I_ admire it.  Think that’s the crazy bit, but I still admire it.”

“They won’t always think that.  Someday, they’ll think it’s just fine.  She promised me.”

“Darcy.”

“What do you know about that?”  Steve’s rage was a palpable living thing inside him.

“Your ‘thing I’m not cleared to know about’, you called it Code Darcy.  And then, despite not smelling like any woman in that hellhole, Barnes walks out smelling female.  You have a spy, or a contact, you call Darcy.  Bettin’ she’s like me, a bit.  Special.”

“Not special enough to save him.  Neither was I.”

The bar was emptying.  Howlett clapped his back and left the last bottle on the table.  Steve was still drinking when Peggy came to talk to him.

He shut Darcy out, for all the psychic shoving at him.  He kept her out of planning, out of him getting captured.  The Red Skull had him held back as he disrespected Erskine and the rage filled him to the point he stopped caring if Darcy was there.  She slipped in as the Red Skull was asking what made him so special.  Steve was about to tell him someone broke physics because he was special long before Schmidt ever even heard of Erskine, when Darcy whispered in his head.  _Let me, he’s just another entitled douche-canoe, I can hurt him worse, I have practice.  It’s evil and wrong, but he deserves it._

_Do it._

“Absolutely nothing.”  Schmidt stared at them, and Darcy smirked.  “I’m just a kid from Brooklyn.”  Schmidt lost it, punching brutal strikes into them.  Steve tried to push Darcy away but she wouldn’t let him. _Oh please, Steve, I’ve had periods worse than this._   Then she started to laugh.  “Oh, this is rich, absolute comedy gold, give that man an Oscar.  Oh, oh wait, you weren’t lying.  You seriously thought it took someone **special**?  It only takes someone **human**.”  Another flurry hit her.  “I could do this all day.”

“Of course you can, of course, but unfortunately, I am on a tight schedule.”  He drew a gun as the Howlies zip-lined in.  Darcy pulled back, aware Steve was now better in a fight using his body than she was but she stayed with him.  He liked having her there.  When they found the hangar, she suddenly pushed one thought forward, a memory, like he had done for her, years ago at Lehigh.

**_A phone call, her head holding the phone to her shoulder.  “Darcy,” said a voice like Dugan’s but tired and old sounding, “when you can, when it matters, you tell that Irish mother’s son he ain’t allowed to die.  Only person Cap ever took orders from was you, so you tell him he can’t die until all of us are down. All of us.  Because I swear the guy what just took out my cameras is that same dumb sunova who fell off a---”  A thump.  The static resolved into a soft conversation.  The line was picked up.  “Kukly, leave it.”  _**_That was Bucky’s voice_ , he thought at her.

_You aren’t allowed to die, Steve.  You’re supposed to, but you aren’t allowed, because he is alive and I will find him.  I know how now; I’ve connected to him.  I will search every single neuron in my brain until I find him._

_You find him, I’ll make sure there’s a world for him to come back to._

_Tell Carter to kiss you.  I can’t so I need her to._

“Peggy, Darcy asked for a favor.”

“Anything for the Lieutenant.”  Phillips looked at her funny.

“She can’t kiss me.”

“I see.  What I do for King and Country,” she sighed and hauled him into a kiss.

_Ok, I might be bisexual_ , Darcy thought and Steve stared at Philipps.

“Don’t look at me, I ain’t kissing you.”

Steve fought, Darcy encouraged him, and she stayed with him as the plane went down.  He noticed her repeating numbers.  _What’cha doing, Darcy?_

_Tracking our vectors.  I taught this to, to him for the sniping, now I’m figuring out exactly where you’ll land, and then I will launch a fucking Arctic Expedition if I have to, if it’s the only way to get you back._

_I love you._

_I love you too.  Deep breath, close your eyes, now!_

He felt the plane impact, and then he was tossed forwards and lost consciousness.

<^>

Bucky woke in a lab.  His head hurt and his mouth was dry.  He was missing an arm.

_Darcy?_

_There you are.  I have been looking since **New Mexico**.  You need to get functional, fast, Steve flew a plane into the Arctic._

_WHAT!?!_

_I KNOW!  Just, play along, call me if you need to purge pills, I love you._

_I love you too.  I also love Steve, but if he survived, I’m gonna kill him._

_Leave some for me._

_Ten-Four, Lieutenant, ten-four._

_I let you watch too much TV._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> PTSD- Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, a common thing to get after experiencing a big trauma like war, assault, or the death of loved ones.  
> Ginger Ale- a non-alcoholic ginger soda that existed in both times and is good for nausea.  
> Bub- Logan-speak for pal. In this instance, used sincerely.  
> Douche-canoe- possibly confusing for our German readers, douche does not refer to a shower, it's referring to the feminine cleansing agent, and a very strong insult. A good translation would be a bidet-canoe, but that doesn't sound cool in English.  
> Ten-four- a Citizen's Band code that has also been used by law enforcement, and frequently in cop-based reality shows and other police dramas. It means, 'yes, I understand you'.
> 
> Notes:
> 
> While mental hospitals are not innately bad places, they are not much fun and most people once they pull together enough to handle life outside again, will happily do so as soon as the doctors decide they are ready.
> 
> Mental illness stigma is a very real thing that can almost hurt worse than the initial trauma or incident that put you in the hospital to start with. Darcy's unwillingness to handle that on top of swaps and college is understandable.
> 
> Latveria is a Marvel comics fictional country in Eastern Europe run by a super villain dictator named Victor Von Doom.
> 
> Three stops from Virginia to New Mexico is not bad, but would extend her flight to about 3 1/2 hours barring delays.
> 
> Plane-travel was a luxury thing in Bucky and Steve's time. They would only have flown in military planes, which are not fun. They are uncomfortable, noisy and badly decorated.
> 
> Quick reminder, neon pink was Darcy's color code for 'do not touch'.
> 
> EDIT: I have been informed by a native speaker of French that the previous version (cauliflower) is a mistranslation. The actual endearment is chou, meaning pastry, which sounds much like the first half of choux-fleur (cauliflower). I have edited the chapter to reflect this change.  
>  ~~In French, my little cauliflower is an endearment.~~ A really drunk French guy might swear about this romantic tragedy using a mangled form of this romantic pet name.
> 
> Loss of empathy for others is one of the hall-marks of being in the Armed Fores for too long. Empathy can be a lethal weakness in a war zone, and often gets narrowed down to just "my people" and everyone else is not a priority. High ranking officers (Generals) sort of have to check the empathy at the door, because they need Vulcan-like logic and reason to minimize loss without think of the unavoidable losses. See uses of euphemisms like friendly fire (you shot your own people) and slurs for enemies like Japs, Krauts, Charlies and others.
> 
> Many many gay soldiers served in the same units and when one of a pair of lovers died, it was custom, if not a spoken one, to treat the bereaved like any grieving spouse. One reporter, after the Don't Ask, Don't Tell act was repealed, came forward with photos of a soldier kissing another as the medical copter arrived. He did not release it at the time because when his flash went off, the men's squad threatened him if he hurt their squad-mates. And yes, being anywhere on the LGBT+ spectrum was considered a mental illness.
> 
> Bucky smelled like Darcy because our pheromone production that determines individual scent is dictated by the brain, and Darcy's brainwaves were running things. Nobody else would have gotten that, but Logan has super-smell.
> 
> Some lines taken from First Avenger, some added, because Skull-boy deserves to be mocked.
> 
> A poorly landed punch to the gut (and I reviewed the scene, his form was terrible) can feel like a bad period cramp if you brace for it first.
> 
> For King and Country was a popular British propaganda line. It is used semi-sarcastically here.
> 
> If Steve flew in a straight line and angled down, knowing his approach vector could give someone a good idea where to start looking.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy grieves, tases the God of Thunder, and faces off with a nemesis from her past.
> 
> Steve contemplates life, death and that really weird thing in between.
> 
> Bucky struggles to stay strong, is reminded why he fights, and lies to a captor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Fest! To Ye, CrazyScifiChick, Maharet, quadrad, Notashamed, Joey99, iwanttoreadmore, LaughingCat, mystormygirl1, Sirens_song14, aquadrop25, Maedae84, halfelf87, Shadows_of_Shemai, kreider, merrysoul, Musichowler, Elisa, ValkyriePhoenix, Matlida_Nicki, tigrislilium, Crystallea1321, BloodElf, mouseymightymarvellous, SionnachOiche3 and Carfaycor.
> 
> Also would any readers fluent in Russian be willing to double check some dialogue I have in a later chapter? I'm learning it, but I have about a 3 year old's fluency, and I had to resort to google translate on some nouns. You can contact me about this on tumblr, same username.

Darcy landed at the Roswell International Air Center half an hour delayed.  She was grateful for that, it gave her time to haul herself together.  Seeing both the guys she loved die, from inside them, it almost destroyed her.  Especially knowing that her job was now done.  She’d never see them again; their purposes were over.  She met Dr. Jane Foster and her caring-for instincts, honed on keeping Steve and Bucky alive in the Depression kicked in and soon she had a passed out super-genius sleeping in the back of the RV as she drove out to Puente Antiguo.

Jane became more friend than boss pretty quickly.  Without Steve and Bucky taking up her mind, she used it on reforming Jane’s life into something resembling functional.  She also repaired equipment that did she had no idea what, pulling on all those hours helping Steve fix the electric lights and watching Bucky take apart rifles or teaching Steve how to hot-wire a car.  She missed them, and apparently it showed.  Jane asked her about it one day.  Darcy tried to put her off, but Jane was persistent and it all came out.  Every detail, every memory, every feeling, poured out at top volume.  Jane held her and let her scream out her anger and fear and loss, then looked her in the eye and said Science-talk.  It was so Jane of her that Darcy had to laugh.

In between studying odd storms, Jane studied Darcy.  Darcy let her, because an unbiased observer studying her brain as she reached across time and space looking for her boys made her feel less crazy.  Jane called a few scientist friends who were also interested in Einstein-Rosen bridges, because apparently Darcy’s brain could make them.  Small ones, only capable of sending electrical impulses, the stuff that made her feel like she was in another body, and they in hers, the control parts.  But still.  Darcy was proof Jane wasn’t crazy.  Not everyone thought that, but a few did.  Someone on a very encrypted chat line who went by Fleming77 was constantly asking for a brain scan, and after Darcy went on a rant in all caps about not wanting to fake another concussion to get them an updated CAT scan, Jane received a package containing a floppy tweed mash-up of a cloche and a deerstalker hat that had sensors inside.  A little work with Fleming77 and Darcy had a whole new level of not getting hard science to appreciate, and some tweaks that boosted her ‘signal’.

Of course, Thor had to show up.  Her possible PTSD was confirmed in her mind when her first instinct was to pull a side-arm on the man and fire, even if that side-arm was a taser.  He had freaked her out, but Jane nodded and kept Eric Selvig off her back as they drove back to town, because she knew Darcy had served, sort of, in a war.  It shook her, knowing she was that willing to do violence, but by the time they got to the hospital, she knew Steve and Bucky would be proud.  Thinking of them again hurt, so she hid behind sass, as always, and waited to shut down until the guy was checked in.  She found traces of the links when she tried to turn her own mind off.  Steve was closest, but Bucky was easier to reach, barely.  She got one flash of being dragged through snow and decided to get back to that later.

Later, when she was gloomily picking through her vintage candy in the same Captain America lunchbox Steve had given her such shit for when he had finally put the pieces together, a bunch of government goons walked in like they owned the place.  God, they had not updated either attitude or outfits in seventy years.  Her brain went to a particularly vicious smack-talk she’d only just gotten Steve away from back in his preforming days.

_Darcy?_

_STEVE?_

_I… died?_

_Apparently not.  Neither have meddling government fuckers.  You seein’ this?_ She thought at him as she body-blocked the Fucker In Charge from touching one of Jane’s thingies.

_Yeah, jerk shouldn’t be touching what ain’t his._

_Agreed.  My taser is out of charge, though, I had to knock out the ‘God of Thunder’ Thor._

_Thor?_

_Yeah.  Life is weird._

_So deck him, you can take him._

Darcy nodded, knowing the balding man would not know why, and threw some heavy attacks.  She got in some good hits before he stopped being surprised and fought back.  He was good, easily as good as Sensei Thorpe.  She fought dirty to counter his higher skill, and he just fought dirtier.  In desperation, she snagged the lunch box and put the heavy tin between her and the suit.  His fist stopped just shy of the image of Steve’s shield.

“You have a near-mint 1945 Captain America lunchbox.  And you put it in front of my fist?  ARE YOU INSANE?”

“Steve would want me to protect myself.  If the cost of that is a lunchbox with a cartoon design of him which he never really liked anyway, so be it.”

_Damn straight Doll._

“How would you know that?”

“Me to know and you to wonder, Secret Agent Boy.”  Something clicked.  “Oh, my, god, you’re SecretAgentMan45!  You jerk!  I was a starving college kid, and do you even know what vintage candy costs these days?  You cost Cap violet gum, asshole.”

“What?”

“I may or may not have an undisclosed method of communicating temporally.  Think, I’m a Poly-Sci major, in a lab that works on wormholes and other space shit.  Be aware, it works both ways, and anytime you hit me, you might be hitting him, traitor.”  She watched with satisfaction as the man blinked in confusion, before he went back to his original mission.

“I need to confiscate everything that has data, STRIKE, you’re on that.”

 _Steve, a little help here?  Steve?  STEVE!_   Her brain fizzed like static.  Maybe she’d dreamed him up when she needed faith.  It didn’t change _her_ mission.

“You can’t do that!  This is her life!”  Darcy ran outside.  “JANE!”

Darcy watched helplessly as they took everything.  Even the iPod with Steve’s playlist.  It hurt, and when Thor went to get it back, and got caught, Darcy gleefully hacked the DMV.  Red_Skyes@Dawn from one of the encrypted chats gave her tips.  He didn’t get back the iPod, but Jane got her notebook back, and Darcy was seeing serious heart eyes happening.  She knew Selvig would try (and probably fail) at giving Thor the shovel talk, so when he was passed out and Jane’s snores could be heard from the roof Darcy brought a blanket up.  After ensuring her scientist was warm, she turned to the Thunder God.

“We need to talk.  I’ll make this quick and use easy words, because you talk like your last contact with humans was in the Middle Ages.  That is Jane,” she pointed.  “Jane is mine.  I care for her, I keep her alive, I tell her she’s not crazy and I keep her from actually _going_ crazy.  I lost the last two people I did that for, I **will not** lose her.  If you hurt her, we will see if a god can bleed.  If you destroy her, which you are in a uniquely capable place to do, I will decimate you, rip you apart into bits like Osiris of Egypt, and hurl the pieces **into.  The.  Sun.**   Are we clear?”

 _I forgot how scary you can be_ , said a voice in her head that wasn’t real, Bucky was dead and so was Steve.

“Verily.  I wish the Lady Jane no harm.  My intention is pure.”

Thinking of the not-real voice and her pain and her loss and her love, Darcy looked at him with a severe resting bitch-face, “that doesn’t change the fact you can, easily.  She loves you.  It is always easy to hurt those who love you, even if you have only the best of intentions.  Here, we say the road to Hell is paved with them.  I think that word was borrowed from your people.  And if your good intentions harm her, I’ll frog-march you right into Hel’s freaky hot-and-rot arms, Norse god or no Norse god.”

“I have no desire to ever embrace my niece Hela in such a way.  And I have no doubt you could do such a thing.  You have my word, Sister of Lightning.”

“Good.  I don’t like letting Sparky off the chain, but I will if I have to.”

“I now see why the All-Father has kept Mjolnir from me, you are a better warrior than I.  More noble and honest in your purpose.”

“I learned from the very best of men what it was to be noble, to fight for the right reasons.  That war sucked, but I did learn.”

“Would you consent to teach me?”

“Alright, it’s a story about a boy named Steve with no sense of self preservation, his shield-brother who loved him, and a girl from another time who watched them grow up, change the world and die….”

<^>

Steve dreamed.  Little flickers of Darcy, barely there and then nothingness.  Was this Hell?  Constantly tormented with tiny sparks of the light he needed, then darkness?

He almost got a clear one, calling out to her and getting a response.  _I… died?_

 _Apparently not.  Neither have meddling government fuckers.  You seein’ this?_ A man in a suit was trying to get around her as her barked orders at the men with him.

 _Yeah, jerk shouldn’t be touching what ain’t his,_ he thought as the guy tried to push her aside with no success.

 _Agreed.  My taser is out of charge, though, I had to knock out the ‘God of Thunder’ Thor._  

Wait… what now?

_Thor?_

_Yeah.  Life is weird._   He could agree, and so was this, whatever it was.

_So deck him, you can take him._

Darcy fought, really well, better than he’d ever seen, especially when the man fought back.  She was facing a worthwhile opponent, one she could let loose on, he realized.  He held back from distracting her, but when she defended her choice of shield he backed her up.  He hated those comics, they made him some kind of perfect unattainable level of the American Dream, he was a poor, scrappy, queer Irish shit-kicker from Brooklyn, not… that.

He heard her call for help, but the darkness was dragging him back.

She didn’t reappear until she ran for her life, and Steve promised himself he’d buy the guy in the cape a beer if he ever escaped this hellhole when he killed the metal thing that almost got Darcy.  He couldn’t be there to save her, but the most-likely-Thor was and did, so Steve figured he owed him one.

<^>

Bucky overheard Darcy as he retched up a pill silently into his palm to toss later.  He knew she wouldn’t want him taking them, not after so much time spent not taking pills she didn’t need but was given because she was protecting him.  It was only a matter of time before they switched to shots, and only focusing on Darcy made the traditional brainwashing methods not affect him.

_Jane is mine.  I care for her, I keep her alive, I tell her she’s not crazy and I keep her from actually_ going _crazy.  I lost the last two people I did that for, I **will not** lose her.  If you hurt her, we will see if a god can bleed.  If you destroy her, which you are in a uniquely capable place to do, I will decimate you, rip you apart like Osiris of Egypt, and hurl the pieces **into.  The.  Sun**.  Are we clear?_

_I forgot how scary you can be._   He got no response.  _Darcy?  DARCY!_   She didn’t respond.

Later, while a man tried hypnosis, again, he thought of her and brought up an image of a giant robot-thing off the pulps destroying a town.  He shot upright, breathing hard.

“We will try again tomorrow, da?”

“Da.  Spasibo.”

That night, he reached for her again, trying to find her.  A handsome blonde who was not Steve was kissing her hand.

“Thanks, Fandral, but I _am_ getting over a very serious relationship that kinda crushed my heart right now.  I don’t think I’m ready.”

“Of course, Lady Darcy.  Asgardians live many years, when you have recovered from your heartbreak, you need but tell Heimdall to request me.”

_Hands off my dame, pally.  Even with one arm I’ll kick your ass._

_Bite your knee-caps off!_ Darcy thought in a silly British accent.

_What?  Darcy?  DARCY!_

If War was worse than Hell, then this was worse than War.  At least then he could talk to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> CAT scan- a form of brain scan. They aren't painful, just annoying and dull.  
> Tweed- a fabric pattern, seen in Darcy's hat that she wears in Thor 1, and that hat is very hard to describe.  
> Cloche and Deerstalker- both are types of hat. Darcy's in the movie looks like it has elements of both and I could not find a better descriptor.  
> Side-arm- a smaller gun than a rifle, used in combat and by police. Darcy does not own a gun or a gun permit, but her taser still counts.
> 
> Notes:
> 
> Roswell is a real town with an international airport, famed for alien sightings. I thought it was funny.
> 
> In "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Thor's Hammer" Coulson displays some extreme martial badassery. He's proficient enough to teach in at least two forms from my analysis. Darcy surprises him, but he would have won had she not used his Kryptonite against him.
> 
> Violet scented gum was a popular candy in the 30's when Darcy and Steve built the collection. It is also very pricey these days.
> 
> Before you ask, Coulson does not call her in as an 084 because he is both concerned she might be telling the truth, and also fairly sure it's impossible. But to be safe, he does not report her claims.
> 
> Red sky at morning, sailors take warning is an old mnemonic for when the tides were likely to rise and cause storms.
> 
> Osiris was the Egyptian God of the Dead, who was torn into 14 pieces and scattered by Set, his evil brother and restored by his wife Isis. Set was pissed by that, so he did it again and fed Osiris's penis to a fish, so when Isis tried to restore him, he was unfinished, and she had to make a prosthetic dick of wood so he could impregnate her before going to the underworld. I could not make this shit up if I tried, and that is why he is pictured as both mummified and erect in the junk. He has a prosthetic dick.
> 
> At least in the US we have the saying "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions." this is what Darcy is referencing. Hell, the word, was in fact borrowed from the Norse Goddess of the Dishonored Dead, who was painfully atractive on one side of her body and a rotting corpse on the other, hence hot and rot.
> 
> In Marvel comic canon (yet to be shown in MCU) Hela is the Goddess of Helheim, and indeed Loki's daughter.
> 
> Darcy's random line about kneecaps is taken from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, when the Black Knight has had his arms and legs cut off and is hopping after Arthur, telling him to come back and fight because the knight will bite his kneecaps. It is prompted by Bucky's thought about fighting one armed, and is probably subconscious
> 
> Teaser:
> 
>  
> 
> It was easy to grab her, like she had been holding out a hand on the dance floor waiting for him to take it and give her a spin.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy gets herself pulled together, gets to work and gets a nasty blast from the past.
> 
> Steve wallows, gets a mental head slap to knock the stupid out, and lets Darcy know he knows Bucky loves her too.
> 
> Bucky gets reprogrammed, goes on a mission, and get's Darcy's help making it better than it could have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Fest! To Snowdove30, quadrad, CrazyScifiChick, Dances_With_Vulcans, ValkyriePhoenix, iwanttoreadmore, Notashamed, Joey99, Pen37, GingerLocks, Valkyriefromunderland, Matlida_Nicki, Maedae84, BloodElf, Musichowler, Yo, UltraCute, merrysoul, Shadows_of_Shemai, 3rook_3, MonaLisa, SionnachOiche3, pianobookworm, TheQueeninMourningHasASecret, SerialObsessor (DlStar71), RavenWoodbane, Vaughn_Tyler, and BubblyPanda for commenting and to the 23 (if my counter has returned to functionality) new kudo-ers since the last time I had an accurate count. If you kudo-ed commented or otherwise gave love to this, this is for you.
> 
> Oh, the beginning has a little overlap with last chapter.

Thor was actually fairly chill under the warrior god thing, but when his friends showed up, shit got pretty aggro, and it escalated alarmingly fast.  It was like swapping with herself.  Breakfast, old friends, boom, giant mega death robot battle.  Her reflexes and nerves were tested, and thank god for the Howlies or she would totally be dead.  Thank Thor too, because while Darcy thought she handled the whole ‘Destroyer’ thing pretty well, she was in no shape to actually fight that thing, not without Steve’s body and a team of highly skilled commandos at her back following orders.  Although her command background (she was totally claiming it, if she was going to have hair-trigger PTSD from that War she was going to claim her rank, dammit) did help her get the civilians evacuated quickly.  Thor’s friend Fandral had used some Asgardian mind magic shit they used on warriors with god-PTSD to help her ease back from the grumpy, fatalistic edge she was near.  He also inadvertently confirmed her suspicions the link was still open between her, Steve and Bucky.  Or open-ish.  He said Steve was trapped in slumber, but Bucky was blocked by something else.  He offered to take her to Asgard to better study it, but she wasn’t ready to go so far from her boys now that she knew they were alive.  She vowed to find them as Jane searched the sky for Thor.  That led to telling Eric about her power and her other life, which was part of why he took the job the jackboots offered.  He wanted to distract them from her little slip.  She got one email from Selvig after S.H.I.E.L.D. recruited him that held only a jpeg of a sketch of a blue cube, and the word ‘Familiar?’ in it.  Shit.  That thing was evil.  She shot back an email that was 90% ramble containing a request to keep her updated on Nasty Aunt Tess, and a phone number that was actually latitude and longitude for ‘my friend SAM, from Lieutenant Lunchbox.’.  She hoped Eric would get it to Coulson, he was in a better place to go looking for Steve than she was and she still needed to locate Bucky.

Jane drove herself, and now, Darcy was right beside her.  Every once in a while, when the patterns stopped making sense, in the stars or the past, one would call “SWITCH” and they’d look at each other’s problems.  Jane gave her algorithms to calculate possible instances of mental Einstein-Rosen bridge use, and she gave Jane information on past incidences of Bifrost usage.  Puente Antiguo meant ‘old bridge’, so Darcy thought it was likely other bridge-named spots with no bridge anywhere might be landing zones.

After an embarrassing almost-trip to London because Darcy read Nine Elms as Nine Realms before Jane got her mother to clarify, Darcy finally got Bucky on her link on a highway to Endless Bridge, Oklahoma.  She checked his arm for a measure of how long it had been, and the bandages were still bloody.  She filled him in on Steve, made sure her connection was solid and waited.

Her timelines were messed up, apparently, she was hopping back and forth.  Sometimes Zola was there and she tried to kill him at least once.  Sometimes it was Russians who held him, sometimes Germans or Americans.  He moved, a lot.  Fleming77 noted that her interactions with later versions of Bucky yielded erratic brainwaves in the area that held her swap, similar to those who had been given ECT, electro-convulsive-therapy.  Shock devices were waiting then; it could also explain why the only memories that remained constant in the later Bucky were of her, that area of his brain would never get touched by an ECT, even one intended to destroy memory.  She worked with Fleming77 and Bucky to do what he needed, learn what he needed from her.  She was ready for it, now she just had to get the mental calibrations right.  Force her brain to the first time to re-stick herself to his timeline.  Although, every shock would get her jarred a little loose, so she needed to really stay on top of this.  Jane volunteered to force-feed her pop-tarts and handle the ‘stay alive stuff’ for her.  It was only turnabout being fair play, according to Jane.  Darcy thought Jane just wanted not to focus on the complete lack of Thor.  She didn’t blame her friend in the least, she had thrown herself at keeping Jane functional to prove she could exist without her men, her beloved Brooklyn boys.  She’d proved that, but she’d also learned the difference between can and should.  That she could didn’t mean she enjoyed it, and she had never felt avoidable pain was a thing she should accept easily.

Finally, the day she got it right came.  He called her as they dragged his beaten body to a room with lots of Science-stuff she still did not know what did.  As she slid in beside him when he was strapped to a chair, she used her own mouth to ask Jane to keep her from screaming.

<^>

Steve got more flickers, computer screens analyzing the immediate time after the War, analyzing the history of places he’d never heard of, books of Norse mythology and complex math.  He called out, but never got to her.  It was a nightmare.

He saw Bucky too, sometimes.  It was far worse than the glimpses of hope, those things.  Maybe the priests had been right, maybe they had sinned bad enough to go to Hell, but that would make Darcy wrong and he wasn’t ready to accept that yet.  He told himself it was only a nightmare and tried to sleep more.  He felt bad, leaving Darcy, but she had her own life, he’d always known he was just a stepping stone for her, a thing to do and then move on to change the world in her own right.  She’d talked about a negro president to Bucky once, maybe she could be a female president, President Lewis, he liked the sound of it, even though the thought of someone who wasn’t Bucky or him being the First Fella burned him. 

She didn’t need an impotent guardian angel.  And he couldn’t take the thought it was real, that his Bucky lived and was hurting, despite Darcy’s relayed warning from Dugan.  Even that was more pain than hope, Dugan dead at Bucky’s hands.  God, his Bucky would rather die.  He wished Darcy well, and before she could do more than say his name, he pushed himself into the darkness and slept.

_Steve you utter asshole, wake the hell up, I need to talk._

_I’m sorry, Darcy._

_Don’t be sorry, be useful.  We have a problem._

_I can’t help, Dollface, I’m dead._

_Only mostly, which is partly alive._

_Nope, go through my pockets and look for loose change._

_You’re an ass.  Call me when you aren’t wallowing._

He slipped into darkness.  Wait, that wasn’t a phantom he thought up or a trick.  He knew that mind, the touch of it, he knew that better than his own name.  That was Darcy.

_DARCY!_

_About time, I have been dealing with our brainwashed buddy and his crappy attitude towards letting me help for too long and we needed you.  You are reckless, pigheaded, and lack all sense of self preservation, but you know him like I don’t.  I need some memories of him.  He’s slipping, and I only have what we shared via swaps.  He needs a stronger anchor to who he is._

Steve sent her his strongest memories of Bucky, real, vivid.  Like all his memories were.

_Wow, ok, that was a little more graphic than I had thought, but sure, thanks, this will help him.  Uh, you know how we said I love you to each other?  Bucky and I did too.  While you were wallowing.  Or napping, I’m not sure, but it’s been almost a year since I lost you both and you don’t surface as often._

_We both knew we loved you.  It’s alright, Doll, we’ll figure it out._

<^>

Bucky wasn’t hesitant to reach out for her when they dragged him to the newest way they had thought up to control him.  He needed her.  The drugs made him woozy, the hypnosis sometimes worked, and he was too weak from surgery to affix the replacement arm to fight back alone.  It was easy to grab her, like she had been holding out a hand on the dance floor waiting for him to take it and give her a spin.  It was also easy to admit his own weaknesses.  She was in there with him, she knew.  And he knew she wouldn’t judge or blame him for them.

_Doll, I’m scared._

_I’ve got you.  My connection to your time-line is messed up, but I do know what this is, sort of, and that you will survive it.  I’ll split the pain, half and half, but it will hurt.  The electrical impulses will make you forget things, so store whatever you need to keep on my end.  You’ll be suggestible after, but I can shield you a little.  Give you some knowledge of what they say and modulate your response.  If we make them think this works, they won’t try something I can’t help you with._

_Thank you.  Love you, Doll._

_Love you too._

The pain was almost as bad as the Vita-ray thing Steve went through, he saw in her memories as he hid his most important ones with her, only… Darcy was smarter this time.  She shunted only half the pain to her brain, letting Jane, a friend, help her more effectively.  Bucky felt her sensing his dumping memories into her mind, a strange heaviness.  She panted for air as he thanked her when they removed the bite guard.

“Ty Zimniy Soldat,” said a man.  _You are the Winter Soldier_ , Bucky supplied from co-pilot.  _They made me learn Russian._

_Cool.  You talk then, I don’t, I took Spanish._

“Da.”

“Ty moi oruzhiye.”

“Da.”  _I’m not his weapon, am I?_

_No, you are my best guy, you are James Buchanan Barnes, people call you Bucky, and you belong to nobody because you are a human being not a gun._

“Eto missiya.  Vy budete vypolnyat'.  Ponimayete?”  _The folder is a mission.  He wants me to comply._

_There are lots of ways to comply.  Not all of them will be bad.  I’m here._

“Da. Ya ponimayu.”

The mission was easy.  A corrupt kleptocrat was to be assassinated.  Technically the folder said ‘removed’.  So he dragged the man down an alley and told him to disappear.  Or else.  The man resisted that idea, and Bucky remembered the files Darcy had found on him, the liaisons with girls no older than Becca.  It was easy to do the mission then, but he still kept Darcy out of the end.

Later missions got harder.  It was always a struggle to reach Darcy after a wipe.  Always a fight to get back who he was.  He leaned on Darcy when he could.  And when he couldn’t, people died.  He watched clothing change between sleeps, he let her look at dates when he could flick eyes towards a calendar or a newspaper.  Sometimes she was experienced, sometimes she didn’t know what had happened to him.  Those were the worst ones.  He watched uniforms change.  He let them think he was mindless.  He gave it all to Darcy to keep before a wipe.  Even if she had been out of touch or confused during a mission, she was there to help him during the wipes, always.  Then he opened his eyes and saw a thing he hated, viscerally, in a way he could not explain.  He called her up.

_What is that?_

_Squid-Nazi.  What the hell is Hydra doing here?  We **killed** them.  What year is it?_

He glanced at the calendar on the technician’s desk.  December, 1991.

_Crap.  I know your mission.  You’re supposed to assassinate a friend.  I think this was their test run for the others.  When you are clear of them, I’ll need you to get me to a computer.  I’ll stay linked so I don’t lose you, but I need to be able to do stuff on my end._

“Are you ready to get to work?” asked the handler, who looked like Steve… that was wrong.  Not Steve was wrong and saying wrong things.

_Bucky did you get that?_

“Yes.”  He knew she would know it was for her, while letting the Not Steve handler think he was still a puppet.  It was hard not to smile.  Darcy wouldn’t let him hurt a good person.  She’d find a way.  She was smart like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> (Darcy-code)  
> Nasty Aunt Tess- the Tesseract.  
> SAM- Secret Agent Man (aka Coulson)  
> Lieutenant Lunchbox- herself.  
> (Russian)  
> Ty Zimniy Soldat- You are the Winter Soldier.  
> Ty moi oruzhiye- You are my weapon.  
> Eto missiya. Vy budete vypolnyat'. Ponimayete?- This is the mission. You will comply. Understand?  
> Da- Yes.  
> Ya ponimayu- I understand.
> 
> Notes:  
> Experienced combat officers have a way of getting people to do things that their brains don't want to, like calmly evacuate when a giant mega death robot attacks. Marines who are no longer on active duty actually run a charity, Team Rubicon, that helps in disaster areas too dangerous for standard Red Cross teams. They are wildly effective in part to knowing how to get that hind-brain to shut up and let logic drive. Darcy has the creds to effectively evacuate the town quickly.
> 
> There was not, in the movie, enough time for Fandral to have helped her, but I needed her back on track. Also, yes, that's the conversation from last chapter. He's not making moves, he's asking her to come get studied.
> 
> Sometimes, looking at a problem from another angle can fix the problem of give you a solution to part of it. Thus the switching projects even though the two are way unsuited to each others areas.
> 
> ECT when preformed medically is currently very safe and only causes short (maybe a month) periods of woozy memory. Part of recovery treatment is making very factual statements to the patient about the memories they lost incidentally. Needless to say, this could possibly be grossly misused. ECT is going out of favor as new, less intense procedures are developed, like TMS, trans-cranial magnetic stimulation, the worst side effect of which is a slight headache and a desire to murder woodpeckers, because that's what it sounds like for half an hour.
> 
> Steve was raised in an era where being gay, let alone bi and poly, was considered a sin even if you never acted on it. His faith in Darcy slightly outstripped his faith in someone who damned him before he even got to the goodnight kiss.
> 
> The only mostly dead, which is partly alive, comes from the film The Princess Bride, a beloved classic. In that scene, Miracle Max says there is only one thing you can do with someone who is all dead, which is to go through the pockets and look for loose change.
> 
> Kleptocracy, the rule by those who can embezzle the most, and underage sex trade were problems in 1960's Russia. In The Winter Soldier, Natasha says he's been credited with kills going back 50 years, which would put his first mission in the 60's.
> 
> Robert Redford, who played Alexander Pierce, did indeed look a lot like Chris Evans as Steve when he was younger. Creepily so, and probably why he was put in place as a handler.
> 
> Teaser:
> 
>  
> 
> “You just got Howard to stop arguing. That’s you, Peggy, and Morita I’ve seen do that. And Jim gets half marks for resorting to a language Howard didn’t know."


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy handles Howard Stark, starts an underground resistance, and leans on Steve.
> 
> Steve learns there is more to strength than punching the bad thing until it leaves, and helps his loves.
> 
> Bucky copes with extended use by Hydra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Fest! To Ye, SerialObsessor (DlStar71), iwanttoreadmore, quadrad, arch, Notashamed, RavenWoodbane, Dances_With_Vulcans, Joey99, Valkyriefromunderland, RansLover, BloodElf, pianobookworm, Maedae84, LaughingCat, Shadows_of_Shemai, t_shauna, Musichowler, Crystallea1321, Tenshinrtaiga, SionnachOiche3, Matlida_Nicki, Boop, and the 16 new kudo-ers.

Darcy watched the man who looked like Steve show Bucky a file on Howard Stark, but her mouth was talking to Red_Skyes@Dawn on encrypted Voice-Chat.  Jane was there too, making notes.

“So, I need to send a message to Howard Stark in 1991.  What system will I be using and is there a record of his email?”

“Swapper, this is 1991, you’re talking about.” Red said in the modulated voice that was part of the encryption.  “The web was not as you know it.  Those were the NSFNET days, it was Howard Stark, so maybe he was on MILNET, possibly Nipper-net, but seriously?  Practically uncharted waters here.  Ugh, I’ll do some googling.  I’ll need to know the system you use when you get to the computer.”

“Darcy, drink some Gatorade, you will probably be under a while,” Jane told her.  Darcy sipped at the straw she was offered and followed Bucky as he was equipped.  He asked for time to do surveillance, citing the target’s heavily defended status.  The handler gave him a day.  Out in the world, The Asset fell back and Bucky started to come forward.  Most of his infiltration methods were so successful because the handlers didn’t know he was still human, and humans do generally go unremarked by other humans.  He slipped into a store selling personal computers.  She felt him smile when the clerk asked if he’d like to try one, and said something about showing him the updated features.

“It’s a Mac Classic II,” she told Red.

“Ask if it has LAN.”

“Does this model have LAN hook-up?  Or is it net-free?” she used Bucky’s voice to ask the clerk.  He startled at the question and began to ramble about packages and pricing.  Bucky lifted a fore finger, the metal one, to stop him so Darcy could clarify.  “I mean this one right here.  I want to test the modem data rates before I consider it.”

“Oh, yes, it is…” the man stammered.

“Good, off you go.”  She steered Bucky to the keys and let Red talk her through hacking Nipper-net to find Howard’s email.  According to Red it was depressingly easy and mildly miraculous ANY info on the military intranet had remained secure.  According to Bucky this was like living in Science Fiction Land.  She got the access she needed and typed up a fast email, no sender, and shot it off.

**Subject: Code Darcy- HIGH PRIORITY Howard you ass, don’t you dare ignore me.**

**You are about to be assassinated by a ghost.  Said ghost has a Code Darcy.  Meet at the cliff-side section of highway east of your home by seven klicks tonight.  Bring Maria, and for God’s sake, try not to be yourself towards your son.  Last impressions are lasting impressions and he’s bad enough.**

She pulled back and let Bucky drive through the motions of following Howard as he went to work, and home, and then he went to set up at the meeting site.  He disabled all but one of the road-safety cameras, which Darcy set to turn on later.

Howard pulled up and was out of the car almost instantly.  “Barnes?”

“Net.  No.  Not… fully.”  _Darcy, I need you to do this.  Their new programming is really good._

_On it, say ‘Hi’ to my friends._

Darcy straightened.  Bucky had taken to hunching up a little to show submissive behavior.  Phsst, like that man was ever gonna be submissive to Squid-Nazis.

“Code Darcy has been activated, Howard.  It’s good to see you again.”

“But, you were dead!”

“Technically, so was Steve, and he’s currently being a mopey pain in my mental ass under the arctic.  Cyro-freeze.”  She rolled her eyes.

“That’s not…”

“Possible?  Neither is Bucky still being made of hot after like fifty years.  Or me co-habitating his head.  Or Squid-Nazis being back.  And yet, his damn fine ass is here, with me driving, to warn you he was sent to kill you, by them.  You need to look very, very dead by tomorrow.  I helped him adapt a paint-gun so when we reactivate the camera to take a video back to the handler as proof, it’ll look real.  Ish.  We stage it to look like he kills you, then I take the tape, then we push the car into the ocean so it looks like you died in an accident, then you go into hiding.  Do you know anyone under the radar who could take you in?  I need you working on the resistance to this new crap.”

“How do I know this isn’t an elaborate ruse.  That they didn’t clone Barnes and tell him how to fake a Code Darcy.”  Darcy sighed.

“Take my love, take my land, take me where I cannot stand, I don’t care I’m still free.”  She stopped singing abruptly.  “I am, he isn’t.  They took the sky from him, Howard.  No matter how much incidental crap got dropped into memos, I know they kept the true nature of Code Darcy a secret.  You, Peggy, Phillips, the other Howlies, that’s all that knew **me**.  HOW could I fake this?  How could I fake the utter heartbreak he feels right now, the fact he asked me to take full control when he **hates** doing that now, because the conditioning is too strong and he doesn’t WANT to kill you?  How could I fake being **me**?  So you have two options.  You can trust me, follow the plan and go on the run.  Or, I can shoot you, and Maria, shove you both off the cliff, push the car after you and go back with your blood, your DNA on my hands as proof, let them try to wipe me, and lie my ass off to one of the men I love so he won’t bear the guilt.  I’m trusting you not to make me lie to him, Howard.  I’m a killer and a shield and a sworn sister to the Norse god of thunder, but by God I am not a liar, not to them.  Please don’t make me one.  Please, Howard, trust me.”

“Trust her, Howie,” Maria said.  “We can go to Hank.  We’ll use my maiden name and get coach seats, nobody will know.”

“Maria…”

“Stop.  A genius with machines you may be, but a smart man with women you aren’t.  Thank you ma’am.”

“You just got Howard to stop arguing.  That’s you, Peggy, and Morita I’ve seen do that.  And Jim gets half marks for resorting to a language Howard didn’t know.  I don’t know you, I’m like five right now, but damn, I am impressed.  I’ll go turn the camera on, get back in the car and pretend it stalled.”

Once the camera was on, she emerged, paint-bulleted Howard and Maria, put them in the car and disabled the camera.  Howard helped her push the car off the cliff, she erased the second set of footprints and took the film.  Oh, god, VHS…ew.  At least the grainy nature would give the scene more credence.  She was swapping out the paint cartridge for a real one when Bucky edged back in.

_How’d it go?_

_Mission accomplished, we just don’t mention whose._

_You are devious, I love you._

_I love you too._

<^>

Steve felt the passing of time in Darcy’s mind when she spoke to him.  She was tired, pushing herself.  Bucky needed her, and he understood that, from what he saw and what she told him.  But Darcy needed him.  So he held her mind gently, gave her rest and comfort that should have been, probably was, days to him, in the span of minutes to her.  It wasn’t his role, normally.  He was the protector, the one who punched the problem until it left people alone, Bucky was the caregiver, the one who patched up bodies and minds.  But Bucky couldn’t do that from a cage.  So Steve held Darcy when she needed rest, or crying, or screaming, he held her mind in his and wished he could hold her with his arms.

 _When are you guys?_ he would ask her.

_91 and 11.  It’s not good._

_What do you need?_

_Tell me it will work out.  That we’ll find you, and free him and be happy.  Lie if you have to._

_I don’t like lying, and I don’t know the future.  But Darcy, even if all we ever had was this, I’d take it.  Besides, don’t swaps end when they no longer need you?  We have to believe that’s the one rule we haven’t broken.  I still need you, so I must have more work, so I have to get out sometime, right?_

_Maybe.  Grandma’s sick.  I’m going to go visit her and I’ll ask.  I love you._

_I love you too._

Steve learned a new kind of strength, one of letting another lean on you, of gentle words and hope.  He really hoped that this was what Erskine meant, about strong men.  He’d spent so much of his life being strong with fists and guts and standing back up and “I could do this all day”, maybe he needed to learn the value of a softer strength.  One of open arms and heart and letting people fall onto you, and yes, a little bit of “I could do this all day”, because if that’s what his loves needed, he would.

<^>

Bucky fought the programming.  Every time they strapped him in to that damn chair, he and Darcy fought it, but to protect her so she could protect others, he had to take the conditioning.  It wasn’t just shocks and suggestibility anymore.  They added a rapid visual stimulus device over his right eye, which according to Darcy’s brain science friend Fleming, was designed to confuse and over-ride his logic centers.  All he knew was that he actively wanted, even if he didn’t want to want, to do the things his handler told him.  Not Steve was still his handler and it was wrong and at the same time all he wanted was to be told by Not Steve that he did well, that he was good, that Not Steve was proud of him.  When he successfully ended a mission, he did get all that and it felt good.  He hated it. 

Only Darcy telling him how many of her missions he completed made it tolerable.  They were small missions, things he could do in the down-times of Not Steve’s missions.  Phone calls of warning, notes mailed off to names he didn’t know.  He knew what she was doing, vaguely, in a way brought about by wipes and not being told many details to start with.  A Resistance.  The Squids were bad, and strong, and hidden.  He knew that much.  So Darcy was building something strong and hidden and _good_ , to counter it.  He sent another letter as he passed a box on his way to plant a bomb he’d already called in the threat of.  It wasn’t a successful Not Steve mission, and he was not told he was good.  But Not Steve couldn’t hurt him for a random sweep catching the package before it blew.  He would have to kill again soon.  Too many thrown missions and they did it themselves while hurting him.  They had learned that lesson long ago, when he claimed he had no shot from his perch when the open car with the pretty lady in pink and the smiling man came by him.  The man had died, and Bucky had been hurt.  Darcy called it torture, but it was easiest not to think in bigger words.  He could think them with Darcy, but his words every other time were being stolen.  Fleming thought he could get them back, with work.  But he needed to be free first.

_Hey Bucky.  Do you want a jolt of memento?_

_Yeah, something happy.  I think this is a killing mission._

**_Sunlight poured over a bed spread, the metal frame of the bed glinting as he saw his face._** A Steve memory then.  “ ** _I’m so glad you’re mine, his voice said.  Mine and I’m yours.  Forever.”  He heard Steve laugh, and it was good._**

**_“Yeah, we belong to each other, til the end of the line.”  He saw himself pull an envelope out of the pillowcase.  He opened it and shook out a slim gold band._ **

**_“I know you can’t wear it all the time,” he said, “but Steve, would you take this?  Be mine, let me be yours, death do us part and all that?”  Steve laughed again._ **

**_“You threatening to make an honest man of me, James Barnes?  I think we already did the sickness and health, richer and poorer, better or worse bits.  And may death have some good fucking luck parting us.  But I’ll take it.  Get some string to have it on my neck or something, wear it in the house.  Good thing my hands are small.”_ **

_Thank you, I needed that._

“Are you ready for your mission, Asset?”

“Yes.”

“A rogue operative, name of Gabriel Jones, is in this city.  Kill him.  Don’t worry about the body, we want it known he was killed.”

_Darcy?_

_I got this.  You can stall once out; Gabe is known to be wily.  Just say you’re stalking him._

“I understand.”

He didn’t understand what Darcy did.  She called others, gave orders, the new resistance moved quickly and when he needed to tap out, Darcy let him.

“Hi Doc.”

“Hello Bucky.  Fruit gummy?”  Jane Foster held a bag out to him without looking up from her screen.  He took a lemon one and popped in in his mouth, enjoying the textures and flavor and the wet center.

“How’s Fleming?”

“Good, very good.  We think we have a possible new Bifrost site, so that’s good.  We’ll have to be in Missouri for it and Darcy is sure to want to go visit her grandmother.”

“Might be nice to meet her.  By the time I was one of Darce’s Swaps she didn’t see her much.  Old hips and airplanes, or something.”

“Oh, oh, Darcy didn’t tell you… I shouldn’t have said….”

“Doc?”

“Tell Darcy I didn’t mean to, and fess up early.  Mrs. Bahrenburg passed on.  Right after your Howard Stark mission.  She got to say goodbye, and Darcy has all her books and got the house in the will, but….”

“But I won’t meet her.”

“No.  I’m sorry.  I thought she told you.  It can be hard to tell without a monitor what’s grief and what’s a message swap.”

“Hey, she’s alive in 96, right?  I could still meet her.  Just not face to face.”

“It’s possible.  Do you think this equation looks funky?”

“Doc, I’m a sniper, I do trig in my head.  I know I'm a smart man.  And that looks like super-science math to me.  You are asking the wrong guy for help.  Call that Hawking guy, Darcy says he’s quick on the uptake.”

“Like I’m ever going to get his number?  I live and work out of an RV.”

“Worth a shot, though.”  Then he slipped back under, a bullet graze on his thigh and blood on his metal hand as he limped away from a burning building.

_Mission complete, as far as they know he triggered a self-destruct.  Sorry about the thigh, we had to sell it._

_Is Jones…._

_Relocated._

_Thanks Dollface._

_What did you do?_

_Tricked Jane into talking about your grandma.  Accidentally.  Sorry._

_It’s fine, I’m fine.  It was peaceful.  Ready?_

_Yeah._

The wipe burned, but then, he only partially remembered them anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> (Code-names)  
> Red- Red_Skyes@Dawn (aka Skye from Agents of SHIELD)  
> Swapper- Darcy  
> (Computer stuff)  
> NSFNET- the thing that served as the general internet in 1991.  
> MILNET- the thing that served as the secure military internet, replaced by Nipper-net in the early 90's but exactly when, how, and the coding used is all still classified.  
> Mac Classic II- a personal computer, which as a concept was very wow and new.  
> LAN- the hardwire precursor to internet access as we now know it.  
> Modem data rates- browser speed. (Also a complete lie, she just needs the internet.)  
> Intranet- like the internet, but a closed system.  
> (Other)  
> Klicks- US military slang for a kilometer.  
> Memento- Latin for the command "Remember!" also used for things kept to remind you of things that you saw or did.  
> Make an honest man- get married. Also worked as make an honest woman, depending on the person talked about.  
> Quick on the uptake- smart.  
> Dollface- an endearment usually used when the man is in trouble with the woman.
> 
> Notes:  
> Skye (Red) is apprehensive about the hacking even though it turns out easy, because the skills are not always translatable. Someone who can hack a computer that used one programming language might be totally lost trying to hack into something using another. Without knowing the details of what was used when Darcy is hacking, Red could not get her in. And by googling, she means hacking into secure files on systems she knows she can crack. Thus is it easier.
> 
> In canon, Howard and Maria died on Long Island. They also canonically lived in New York City, although the placement is tricky and one source says they lived in Long Island, which contains Queens, where much of Howard's industry was and is also in Long Island. The location, assuming their home is in Queens, would be near Little Neck Bay
> 
> Cryo-freeze really is considered medically impossible with today's tech.
> 
> The song Darcy sings is the opening track to the show Firefly, a beloved story of hers that she told the Howlies, Howard probably heard her sing it before. The end of the line is "I don't care, I'm still free, you can't take the sky from me."
> 
> I messed with the staging here because I needed to fake their deaths, not fake the accidental nature of the deaths. So conflict from the recording in Civil War should be ignored. I also changed the mission profile to kill, not kill and take serum for story reasons.
> 
> VHS videotapes went out of common usage when Darcy was a kid in favor of DVD, which has not been invented yet. VHS security tapes are notoriously bad quality because of constant taping over.
> 
> There are lots of ways to be strong, and while Steve was at one point a weak little shrimp, he still learned traditionally hyper-masculine hit the problem with a big stick strength as "real" strength and pursued it when a softer strength (as Darcy's Judo uses) is just as effective. Now he gets to learn emotional support strength.
> 
> The placement of the thing on his eye in the chair only makes sense if they are giving him subliminal orders and "flash" that is, random or distressing images to disrupt left hemisphere processes. While we still know little about brains and new evidence has shown much of what we thought we knew to be false, in the 90's through 2011 we still thought left brain handled logic. Even without logic over-rides, subliminal messages can potently effect the mind, hence the "I want to, even though I know I don't really want to" thing.
> 
> Fruit gummies are a tasty candy, Jane is eating Black Forest brand, which have liquid centers.
> 
> Grief can result in flat affect (a blank look on the face) but so does the partial swap that happens when Darcy is talking to her boys.
> 
> Steven Hawking is a famous astrophysicist and genius. That Bucky thinks he's smart but is not in awe of him says a lot about how much he respects Jane's brilliance and on what level he thinks she operates at. Of course Bucky is also very smart (see trig calculations in his head) but Jane is four or five steps up the ladder and he knows it.
> 
>  
> 
> Teaser:
> 
>  
> 
> Where are we?  
> Bank vault, DC. They think I’m braindead.  
> You couldn’t do the shit you do if you were.  
> I know, it’s funny.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy continues to organize her army, saves Dugan and gets good news.
> 
> Steve freaks out, gets a hangover, and would really like it if Jane were the kind of doctor that fixed headaches.
> 
> Bucky gets a mental giggle over being underestimated, shares Darcy's good news, and asks for a favorite reading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Fest! To: Maedae84, merrysoul, quadrad, Valkyriefromunderland, Ye, iwanttoreadmore, Dances_With_Vulcans, Joey99, nemohana, pianobookworm, Matlida_Nicki, aquadrop25, SerialObsessor (DlStar71), Musichowler, Shadows_of_Shemai, LaughingCat, Pen37, BloodElf, mouseymightymarvellous, SionnachOiche3, Notashamed, tigrislilium, RansLover, biblioworm and the 17 new kudo-ers.

Darcy was a busy little bee when not helping Jane, which was also busy in and of itself.  She collected data on what had happened, found ways to mitigate the worst of it, and got the right people invested in helping.  She got as many of their targets to safety as she could, a number of retired S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel running safe houses across the globe, and many of those former targets turned around and worked to curb Hydra’s influence where they found it.  Corporations fell to RICO task forces, individuals went missing or died in their sleep, and the tentacles ensnaring the world were weakened or snapped entirely.  She was the one who sent letters to Monty and Dernier warning them, and as a result, they faked their own deaths.  Peggy was the one who got Morita out, another veteran who lost it and disappeared from the streets.  Only this time, he reappeared on the new web, early though it was, organizing, sorting, encrypting, the invisible and untraceable head of the snake that could not be cut off.  He went by Fresno!Ace, and all his communication to her was signed YCSTS.  He’d liked that part of the story, that you can’t stop the signal.  Of course he’d run comms during the War, so of course he liked that.

Darcy watched as the times changed to things she remembered, jelly shoes and Nickelodeon on the TVs she passed in malls.  She knew what was coming and she prepared herself.

When she wasn’t under, swapped with Bucky she mothered Jane, but having to care for Darcy had made her much more independent.  No more the tiny human disaster, she asked Darcy for taser lessons, and soon was pretty good with the lead-taser Darcy used in New Mexico, so when Darcy got a new pronged taser for her birthday, she gave old Sparky to Jane.  She also figured out an auxiliary battery so she could have two strikes, and not be caught with a dead taser again.  She suspected Bucky of also training Jane, because when a mugger in Heavengate, Maine tried to take her purse, Jane punched the guy in the jaw and knocked him out.  She supposed they both had a weakness for tiny, adorable, rage-fueled human wrecking balls determined to upset the status quo.

Finally, the day came that she settled in beside Bucky as the creep who used to look like Steve showed them a file on one Timothy Aloysius Cadwallader Dugan.   She was getting supervision, since the target was considered extremely dangerous.

_Damn straight, Dum-Dum is dangerous, he’s crazy!  That won’t help them any.  Almost feel bad leading those guys to their dooms._

_I note the use of the word Almost, there, Doll._

_Well, they **are** Squid-Nazis.  It is very hard to pity or feel guilty about Squid-Nazis getting the brunt of Dugan’s crazy to the face._

_Agreed.  We’ll have to play this straight while they live.  And once we see him, you need to drive.  The damn conditioning…._

_I know.  It’s ok, you just take a break._

_I mean it, though, they can’t know you’re with me._

_Understood.  Gear up and do your thing, I’m going to do my nails, ping me on the line when you need me.  Oh, and what does Kukly mean?_

_Doll.  It isn’t a pet name like I use it, not in Russian.  Why?_

_Something I heard.  It’s good._

She slipped mostly out of the swap, only the thinnest thread holding her to the timeline.  She finished her new manicure, a vibranium-adamantium silver color with red French tips and a thin line of royal blue dividing them.  It was nice looking.  Very fierce, very her boys.  They had just set up when Bucky tugged the line.

She dove in with easy grace and dropped the rifle’s stock from Dugan’s neck.

“Hey Dum-Dum, you got cameras working in here?  I’ll need to kill them so there’s no proof.”

“That you’re trying to kill me?  Why would I tell you anything, you monster wearing my friend’s face?”

“That is hurtful, Dugan.  We’re having a code… oh crapballs, hold please.”  She grabbed the body of the man Dugan had used his double barreled shotgun on, slammed it into the ground, grabbed the phone and said “Kukly, leave it,” before hanging up.  “Sorry, timeline maintenance issue.  Code Darcy is active, I’m here to help you fake your death at my, his, hands so his creepy evil handlers won’t do the cold shower cryo thing to him again and also to get you to the resistance.  Morita has been pissed you went so far off grid.”

“Morita’s dead, and I’m off grid because even a Dum-Dum can spot the pattern of Howlies dropping like flies.”

“One sec,” she grabbed his phone and dialed a number.  “Yo, Fres, got some pushback on the big guy.  Yeah, they found him, ain’t it just shiny when the Purplebellies do the work for us?  Ok, putting you on.”  She handed Dugan the phone.  A few minutes of swearing later, he hung up.

“So… what now?”

“Morita dispatched a crew to get you to safety.  Why do you have to live in the fucking woods?  I hate the woods.  Did we not spend enough time without central HVAC already?  Any who, after that, I’ll drag the bodies inside, torch it and go report back that you are very, very dead.  End of story as far as you need to be concerned.  You might get shuffled some to find the best safe-house, but you can quit now.  Or help out like Morita does, or host a safe-house of your own like Monty and Jacques do, or take a more active role, like Jones used to.”

“Used to?”

“Bomb, failsafe, small but directed kaboom, uses a wheelchair and is saltier than the Dead Sea about the whole thing.  He _is_ like eighty now.”

“So am I.  So should you be.”

“I would trade Buck's cryo-tube for a wheelchair in a heartbeat, but he doesn’t get a say.  Bomb in the arm.  EMP, I run, he runs, he takes out a city’s power.  Even if we reached max distance, the EMP destroys the arm, and there’s a dead man’s switch fail safe that dumps rabies into the blood.  I think.  I don’t know how to read Russian, and they put the biologics in.  He does read Russian, but that’s not a normal vocabulary word.”

“Ok, when do they get here?”

“Mister Dugan, Sir, we already are here,” said a man behind her.

“Go, stay safe,” she told him, not turning.

“You too Lieu, and the Sarge, safe as you can.”  She nodded and he passed her.  She waited, dragged the bodies inside and tossed a grenade into his stash of orange fuel tanks.

_Is it safe?_

_Yeah, he is gone, in a very extreme way, see fire and boom for more reference._

_Is he…_

_No, of course not.  I just don’t want to make your conditioning harder on you._

_Thanks.  Love you._

_Love you too.  Call when you need me, I think you pulled a muscle.  Why is my back so sore?_

_There was tequila, and a dare, and I cannot do a handstand in your body._

_I hate you._

_I love you too, Dollface._

<^>

Steve felt warm.  It was weird.  But he felt it and it scared him.  So he did what he always did when scared.

_Darcy?_

_Ugh, I hate Barnes, I hate tequila, and I hate the sun.  Turn it off._

_Darcy… Are you hungover?_

_Yes, stupid Bucky drinking tequila and doing handstands and stupid Jane letting him._

_I’ll trade you, I’m **warm**.  Darcy, I flew into the Arctic, why am I warm?_

_Bout damn time, I put Secret Agent Man on that a year ago.  You’re being rescued.  Let me check something._

Steve waited. He was still warm.  And… sloshy.  So weird.

_Ok, Fleming says you are probably in a room temp brine bath to de-ice you safely.  Still want my hang over?_

_Least I could do._

Steve regretted that.

“Oh god what did she drink?”

“Tequila, James, you were there, you drank it,” said a petite woman in a plaid shirt and jeans.

“Not James,” he grunted.  Now he was sort of glad his body couldn’t get drunk.

“OH!  You must be Steve, nice to meet you, I’m Doctor Jane Foster, Darcy’s boss.  Do you mind if I put the Scan Hat on you?  Fleming will be so pissed if I don’t get a scan of Darcy’s other Swap while fully active.”

“Uh…”

“We’re studying it, it’s relevant to my wormhole research.  The hat is just a hat with some little electrode sensors.  Noninvasive, not painful.  Promise.”

“You’re a doctor?”

“Yes.”  She sounded affronted by his question.

“Fix the headache, please.”

“Not THAT kind of doctor.  I have a doctorate in astrophysics.  The stars, how they work, why they work, figuring out the things we don’t know, which is most of it.  I specialize in Einstein-Rosen Bridges, wormholes that allow you to pass large distances in a step.”

“Oh, and hence Darcy.  But headache… tequila bad.”

“She already took the painkillers, they’ll kick in soon.  Here, have some Gatorade, it helps replenish the bodies-”

“Not the blue kind.  I don’t like the blue kind.  Do you have any of the white kind?”

“Lemon or cherry?”

“Cherry.”  She passed him a bottle and he drank it.  “You can do the thing with the hat if Darcy has already said you could.  Her body, her rules.  Ugh, why would Bucky drink something that does this?”

“In his defense, I don’t the he knew about the after effect of tequila when he stole my margarita,” she said as she settled a hat on him.  “Or that I make them with half booze and half margarita mix.   It is not my fault Darcy can’t hold that kind of liquor.”

“She once drank a Micky Finn on purpose.  She was me at the time, but I was you-sized and could barely hold a seltzer water.  I’m told she sang about a guy named Micky being a creep.”

“Ah yes, she mentioned that.  Alternate lyrics to Hey Micky.  I’d play the original for you but she’s in mourning for the loss of her original iPod and also, I think playing it when you have a hangover is cruel and unusual punishment.”

Steve grunted, finished the Gatorade, and fell asleep on Darcy’s crossed arms.

<^>

“Sir, we have a… should we go outside?”

“We’re in the most secure room in DC.  Why would we move?”

“Uh, him, Sir.”

“The Asset has had his brain fried so bad half the time he only speaks Russian.  You can speak.”

Bucky flagged Darcy and she slid in beside him to take this information.

_Where are we?_

_Bank vault, DC.  They think I’m braindead._

_You couldn’t do the shit you do if you were._

_I know, it’s funny._

“Sir, they found Captain Rogers.  They’re defrosting him now.”

“For burial?  This matters how?”

_Steve?_

_Yeah, about that…_

“No, Sir, he’s alive.  He survived that crash, the ice, seventy years, he looks as young as my kid, Sir.  What are our orders?”

“Let me.  I’ll push Nick’s buttons, get him in a vulnerable spot, then we can let the Asset have him.  S.H.I.E.L.D. will fall and we will step into the light.  They’ll never see it coming.”

“Yes Sir, Mr. Peirce, Sir.”

_Well, he was right on one count._

_What’s that Doll?_

_They will never, ever see us coming._

_What was that line, from the comedy group you like?_

_No one ever expects the Spanish Inquisition._

_I’m not Spanish and I don’t feel like asking questions._

_No one ever expects the Winter Soldier either._

_Read it to me again, Doll?  The Crisis?_

_These are the times that try men's souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; but he that stands by it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman…._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> RICO- a RICO task force looks into criminal enterprise masquerading as a legit business, much like a mob front or in this case Hydra front.  
> Comms- the communications with the intel and orders people from the front lines.  
> Jelly shoes- a vastly inexplicable (because they were awful) fad of 1990's America.  
> Nickelodeon- a children's TV network also vastly popular in the 90's but with better reasons.  
> Lead-taser- a taser that shoots long leads to conduct the electric charge, as seen in Thor.  
> Pronged taser- a taser that channels charge direct from the body through short prongs. Not a distance weapon, but more re-usable.  
> Off grid- out of touch, hidden from normal channels that might get you found.  
> Dum-Dum- can also mean a stupid person. Not why the Howlies call him that, but still.  
> Shiny- Firefly slang for cool or neat.  
> Purplebellies- Firefly slang for the Alliance's officers, the Alliance was the big evil force in that show. Code for Hydra.  
> HVAC- Heating, Ventilation, and Air Conditioning, a form of temperature and atmosphere control for homes.  
> EMP- electro-magnetic pulse, a strong one can put an entire metro area out of power, even generators and cars.  
> Dead-man's switch- something that turns on a bad thing should the one controlling it stops controlling it, usually if dead.  
> Brine- salt water, like the stuff they put on iced up roads basically. I can't think of a better method of saving him from dying in defrost.
> 
> Notes:  
> You can't stop the Signal was a catchphrase of Mister Universe in the movie Serenity. It became a very plot relevant thing and is now up there with "I'm a leaf on the wind" and "Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal" as stuff Browncoats get and others don't.
> 
> Kukly does in fact just mean doll as in a child's toy. A better pet-name would be konfetka, sweetie, or vozlyublennaya, beloved. Shout out to the Spoonful of Russian blog for the help!
> 
> French tips are a nail art style. Darcy's nails look like this, with different colors: https://files.brightside.me/files/news/part_5/51305/733355-650-1448002315-12.jpg
> 
> The stock is the heavy wood or composite bit that supports the barrel, the best part to pin a big guy like Dugan to a wall with.
> 
> Orange tanks are often a hallmark of propane, but can hold other combustion fuels. Either way, a grenade in the stock pile would make a very big boom and a crater full of fire.
> 
> Gatorade is a sports drink that does assist in lessening a hang-over. It comes in 31 flavors, and at least two are white colored, see earlier notes on Steve's blue dye aversion. One is glacier cherry, the other is lemon ice.
> 
> No one ever expects the Spanish Inquisition is a line from a Monty Python skit.
> 
> The American Crisis (often shortened to The Crisis) is a collection of articles written by Thomas Paine during the American Revolutionary War. The first is most often quoted, and General Washington found that one so inspiring, he ordered that it be read to the troops at Valley Forge. Remember, that was the place where 12,000 American soldiers took refuge in a winter so harsh 2,500 of them died from natural causes, as in nature killed them, not the enemy. While Paine does not ever use the words Winter Soldier, his implication is that if you are only willing to fight in nice weather, a "summer soldier", you aren't that great and the guy who is there in the depth of winter when everything seems lost, that guy, the winter soldier, is the true hero. This is why it is so comforting to Bucky. He is a Winter Soldier, and not because of what the Red Room named him, because he serves under the worst of conditions during the times that try men's souls. Read the full article here: http://www.ushistory.org/paine/crisis/c-01.htm
> 
>  
> 
> Teaser:
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> “To all the ones who weren’t as lucky. I know, Sir."


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy helps Steve through the waking up process, and comes to his rescue.
> 
> Steve is not five minutes awake before he gets tired of the old bull being re-used, and is not having it.
> 
> Bucky is happy to get to see them, even by proxy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Fest! To quadrad, Valkyriefromunderland, Snowdove30, aquadrop25, RavenWoodbane, iwanttoreadmore, merrysoul, HellKat, Dances_With_Vulcans, SerialObsessor (DlStar71), pianobookworm, Matlida_Nicki, LaughingCat, FN_2187, BloodElf, Musichowler, Maedae84, Ye, t_shauna, UltraCute, Crystallea1321, Pen37, Elisa, Joey99, Notashamed, SionnachOiche3, halfelf87, Shadows_of_Shemai and the 31 new kudo-ers.

Darcy went back to Steve after Bucky was wiped and stored.  She felt his body being moved, manipulated, undressed, dressed, all without him moving himself, being there, consenting.  She knew they thought he was unconscious, and his body was.  She couldn’t get a single thing to move on her own, not even a twitch.  And she knew, that, that was a blood pressure cuff, and that was a thermometer, and that was clean clothing, and that was a comb going through his hair, these were all to make sure he was ok, but still.  He couldn’t consent to any of this.  It pissed her off and her rage was a living beast inside her mind that she tried to shut away.  Maybe it was so long beside Bucky when things he didn’t want were done to him and she couldn’t stop it, and maybe it was hoping that the good guys, that Secret Agent Man, would be better than that.  Maybe it was learning that S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn’t as clean and good as it wanted people to think.  Maybe it was fear it wasn’t good guys, who held and moved and dressed and cleaned and neatened him.  None of those maybes changed the fact that she felt so angry she could scream.

But anger was not what Steve needed.  He needed support.  He needed help.  He needed her.

So when Steve slipped in beside her, she didn’t rail or bitch over the unfairness.  She told him what she had overheard, little snippets of conversation.

_It’s 2012, we’re in the same year now._

_That’s great.  Where are you?  I’ll come out and we can have a real date, see a movie actually together._

_You’re in New York City, a secure facility._

_Darcy?  Do… do you not want to go on a date?_

_I’d love to, but you have maybe seven layers of security on you right now.  You’re a War Hero who came back from the dead, Steve.  I’ve been in contact with the head suit from New Mexico, on and off, we have to be discrete, I don’t want to be dissected so they can figure me out.  But I gave him your vectors, and they found you._

_Do you trust them?_

_I trust Agent Phil Coulson, and I trust Eric, who is working with the Cube.  They found it before they found you.  He’s been stalling the research for me, I know what it can do, so do you.  Phil trusts a guy named Clint who does some of the drops when we communicate.  Nice guy, sniper, only he doesn’t like guns._

_What kind of a sniper doesn’t like… oh God it’s another Mad Jack._

_Every batch apparently has one nut in it.  Clint’s this season’s loon.  He also trusts a lady who’s name I do not know, because she changes it as often as her hairstyle, but her hair is always red, and her initials are always N. R.  You’ll know her because she has the same “I wear red because I am not afraid to cut a bitch” thing Peggy had._

_So, our circle of trust is a guy who attacked you, a guy working on a Cube project, a maniac with a bow and arrow problem, and a terrifying red head who thinks a name is a thing other people have?_

_Yep._

_We’re screwed._

_Yes we are.  I’m a few hours out, I’ll head to the city, try to get to Times Square.  It might be the only place you won’t stick out.  I don’t know the day, so you may have to wait, or I might._

_I’ll see you soon.  I love you Darcy Lewis._

_I know._

_Huh?_

_ARGH! I knew I forgot something, we never watched Star Wars!  Gotta go, love you too, Steve Rogers._

Darcy slipped into her own body.  “Jane, we need to go to New York City.”

“We do?” the scientist asked from her screen, not looking up.

“Yes, and you’re driving.”

“You banned me from driving after the speeding ticket outside Omaha, Darcy.”

“Because you broke interstate highway speed limits on a back-road state highway, Jane.  And now, if it is at all possible to get this thing to break the sound barrier, I need it to, and you are the one to ask.”

“You found him, one of them.”

“Steve.  He’s in New York, I told him I’d meet him at Times Square.  So, lay on the gas, Janey, pedal to metal, floor it,” she listed terms for speeding as she buckled in and Jane moved to the driver’s seat.

“Autobahn?” Jane asked, hopeful.

“No, the Autobahn actually has an advisory speed limit.  Break that.” Darcy told her friend.  “Try not to hit anyone.”

<^>

Steve woke up to the sound of a baseball game on a radio.  An old one, from 41, MAY of 41, America hadn’t entered the war then, how dumb did they think he was?  He opened his eyes and looked at the replica room, spotting all the little errors.  He looked at his chest, a print tee, really?  They didn’t have those, tee shirts were undershirts, you didn’t _decorate_ them.  A woman walked in, and nope, not a single one of his chorus line would be caught dead in that outfit, and her hair was off, and he hated to even think it, but she was clearly wearing a modern seamless bra under that shirt, the profile was too natural.  They did know he had been an artist, yeah?  He noticed this stuff.

“Where am I?” he asked sternly.

“You’re in a recovery room in New York City.”  No, she had red hair but she wasn’t anywhere near Peggy in terms of sheer terror created in him.  She wasn’t even that close to Darcy.  Therefore, not N.R. whoever that may be.

“Where am I,” he asked again, slowly, “really?”

“I.. I don’t know what you mean.”  Steve sighed, he did not have time for this, he had a date.

“Listen, Ma’am, I know you are just doing a job.  I am a box on a checklist to you.  Pick up your coffee, file that report on the latest action, check in on the dancing monkey, re-order ammo for the side arm you left in your desk.  Yes, I see you twitching towards it, Peggy did the same, and as she once emptied a clip at me I know to look.  But I know I am not in the nineteen forties.  Printed tee?”  He picked at his shirt before pointing to the radio.  “A ball game from before we were at war?  That is not a real plant, and you have the windows open but I don’t smell garbage and automobile exhaust or coal dust.”  He stood up.  “What I smell, is, if you will pardon a soldier’s language, a line of bullshit.  What you are selling here ma’am, I ain’t buying.  Where am I.  Easy question, three words, just answer me.”

“I….”  He heard a click and threw himself back at the wall.  It sounded a lot like and anti-personnel mine arming, alright?  How was he supposed to know he’d go through the wall?  Well, no time like the present.  He ran for it.  Over the speakers he heard her alerting the building to a code 13.  He saw glass doors heading out and ran.  He made it to Times Square when black vans circled him and an intimidating negro- no wait, Steve, you dummy, you’re in 2012, the correct form is African American, a voice in his head that sounded like Buck told him, so he revised his thoughts; an intimidating _African American_ man in a trench coat and an eye-patch hopped out.  He stood like he owned every bit of land he could see and commanded all the men on it.

“At ease, soldier! Look, I'm sorry about that little show back there, but we thought it best to break it to you slowly.”

“Break what and who are you?”

“You’ve been asleep Cap.  For almost seventy years.”

“I wasn’t sleeping the _whole_ time, and you didn’t answer me.  Who are you and what is the agency you work for?”

The man blinked.  This was not an expected response.  So not Clint.  Although the eye-patch was already a bit of a giveaway, snipers needed depth perception.

“I’m Director Nick Fury, of S.H.I.E.L.D.  We are what the SSR became, under Peggy Carter and Howard Stark.”

“Well, Director Fury, I’d say my tour is over, as of a little under seventy years ago.  And I have a date with a beautiful woman.  So the SSR, and Shield, which is a very corny name, can say goodbye now, because I?  I have a _date_.”

“I think you mean ‘had’ a date, son,” the man said comfortingly.  Steve wondered if _he_ was that annoying when he said 'son'.

“I’m old enough to be your grandpa, Director, and I meant what I said.”  A screech of wheels sounded off to the side and he turned to see a big off-white vehicle pull to a stop just shy of the ring of vans.

Darcy hopped out, calling back inside, “good job Jane, you didn’t hit anyone this time!”  She ran over, casually flipping men twice her size out of her way as she ran to Steve.

“Doll!  Oh, Darcy, it is good to see you.”  He wrapped her in his arms and they held each other like they were drowning and only the anchor of the other kept them afloat.

After a long moment, Darcy patted his arm twice and spoke into his chest.  “Ok, I fully appreciate the face full of man-boobs, but I need air, Steve.”

“Oh, sorry, Darce.”  He pulled back, but kept an arm around her, daring anyone to try to part them.  “Super strength,” he said apologetically.

“Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex, I know.  We’ll find a work around,” she said, casually mentioning the horrific little strip from a modern Tijuana Bible that had made him gag when he first saw it.

“Ugh.”  He shuddered at the thought of hurting Darcy when they made love together, well… if she _wanted_ to, with the new risks he wouldn’t blame her if she declined.  “Don’t even joke, Darce, I could not handle doing that to you, especially during _that_.  So, you said something about Star Wars?”

“Excuse me,” Director Fury said affronted.  “But who are you and why are you in my cordon?”

“I’m his girlfriend, and I’m picking him up for a really, _severely_ , over due date.  Oh, and our dance partner is in DC right now,” she told Steve, dismissing the Director.

“He ok?”

“As much as he can be.  It was not pretty, Steve.  Oh, he said to give you this,” she motioned him down and he leaned in obligingly. “The ARCTIC, you moron?” she said as she slapped his head.  “Those were his words.”

“I might have deserved that.”

“ALRIGHT!” Fury yelled, living up to his name.  “What in the ever-loving fuck is going on here?”

“Sorry, sir, I was packing up some delicate things when the alert sounded.  Plan not go according to?” said a placid man Steve recognized.

“Say your ‘I told you so’s’ after you can tell me what a civilian is doing in my cordon.”

“Lewis isn’t a civilian, Sir, she was adopted by Thor in the Puente Antiguo incident as his sister, and is therefore a foreign emissary.  Also, she served in that incident temporarily, and she is a damn fine officer.  Don’t know where she got her rank, but she’s good.”

“They don’t call me the Lieu for nothin’, Director.  Nice to see you again, Sam my man.  Still the spook of all spooks?”

“I hate that nickname,” Coulson muttered lowly.

“Pick a better e-Bay username, then, Secret Agent Man.”

“Wait, the _Lieu_?” Fury asked.  “As in….”

“Whatever Carter told you was a lie, I was not responsible for that, anyone knows you never store your flour next to your gunpowder.  And the bleach and ammonia thing was one time.”

“AT EASE!” he commanded the men.  “Cheese, get them out of here.”  Coulson moved to evacuate the agents from the Square.

“A pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Fury said more politely.  “I wasn’t expecting….”

“No one ever does, Fury.  Now, I’m taking my man, going to a hotel, and making sure he’s all right.  This good with you?” she asked in a way that implied his answer was irrelevant.  He handed her a shiny black card.

“On us.  Whatever he needs.  You can contact me through Coulson, I know you two have some kind of a line of communication.  Just… he’s the first one we ever got _back_ , you understand?”

“To all the ones who weren’t as lucky.  I was there, I _know_ , Sir.  The worst that will happen under my care is him bankrupting a Golden Corral.  Man likes his all you can eat’s.”

<^>

Bucky pretended he slept, the cool air of his pod condensing on his flesh, he saw through Darcy’s eyes, Steve, their Steve.  He could make it, for Steve, for Darcy.  He could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Suit- can be used to mean an official, in Army slang, an officer who never goes into combat might be called this, but Darcy isn't using it like that, which is visible in the lack of other disrespects.  
> Emptied a clip- to fire a handgun rapidly, even if the whole clip is not in fact emptied or the gun does not use a magazine-loading system.  
> Cordon- a limited access zone set up by law enforcement.
> 
> Notes:  
> Bodily consent is a big hot button for Darcy, both as a Millennial female in America, but as the woman helping Bucky in his struggle with extreme violation of bodily consent. None of what happens is strictly speaking in violation, because a person who is in danger and unconscious is assumed under Good Samaritan laws to have 'implied consent' to the first-responder for helping actions until they wake up and actively deny the treatment or aid.
> 
> Yes, Steve you big hypocrite, Clint is the new Mad Jack Churchill, please see prior notes for more on that guy.
> 
> Times Square, where Steve ends up in the movies, is widely considered weird, even by native New Yorkers, and yes, might be the best place for a time-displaced formerly dead WWII war hero to blend in.
> 
> "I love you." "I know." is a classic Star Wars quote.
> 
> The Autobahn is a national highway in Germany famous for not having an enforced speed limit. It does, as Darcy states, have a reasonable speed advisory limit, and going faster than that can put you at legal risk in case of an accident.
> 
> There were so many prop errors in that scene I can only conclude that it was intentional, as during the War section of the movie, props and costuming were very on the ball. And yes, that actress is not wearing the right kind of bra.
> 
> Coal was a common energy source in 1940's New York, and has a distinct smell.
> 
> Some lines stolen from First Avenger, others altered to fit the fic's canon.
> 
> Loss of sight in one eye destroys all long range accuracy. Snipers fear eye damage more than having a trigger finger cut off, because you can learn to shoot off hand, but the eye? Not a good way to regain old skill levels for the eye.
> 
> Steve hears the acronym as a word and will continue to think and speak it like a name until he sees the acronymic form.
> 
> Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex is a one-off comic strip that gained some fame about Superman accidentally murdering Lois during sex.
> 
> Tijuana Bibles were the deviantart hentai comic porn of Steve's day, containing some amazingly kinky shit like domme Betty Boop and Minnie Mouse getting spitroasted. They were graphic and anyone who claims perversion is a new thing needs to be sat down with one.
> 
> "I might have deserved that." is a line from Pirates of the Caribbean, which Steve has seen with Darcy.
> 
> Flour stored by gunpowder increases chances of a stray spark causing a massive explosion as burning flour dust spreads up and out. See the Mythbusters coffee creamer cannon episode for more on particulate explosions. Bleach and ammonia are common cleaning chemicals that when mixed, form a volitile toxic gas similar to mustard gas.
> 
> “To all the ones who weren’t as lucky." is a common toast among veterans to honor the dead. It is NEVER used flippantly in the military and I know at least one veteran who is more than happy to deck anyone who uses it improperly, and I have seen her do so. Darcy is NOT using it as a joke, she is using it to say "I understand you, I know what this means to you, I was there and I get it" even if she does follow it with a joke about Steve's appetite.
> 
>  
> 
> Teaser:
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> “No, we do not mention the TSwift days,” Jane said sharply, pointing a steak knife at him. “I had to put a ban on her playing The Story of Us in the lab.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy takes Steve and Jane to eat and rest, talks around things and discusses music.
> 
> Steve has a night-terror, but as always, when he needs her, Darcy is there.
> 
> Bucky has a mental giggle fit at his loves and dreams of Darcy and Steve and a sky you can't take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before the Love Fest, I need to point you all at mouseymightymarvellous and ValkyriePhoenix who have made a spin-off based on a comment thread and wow do I feel the love here, thanks guys, you rock.
> 
> OK, Love Fest. To mouseymightymarvellous, aquadrop25, quadrad, LaughingCat, Sergeant_Disaster, Reesachan (Clymenestra), Ye, UltraCute, merrysoul, ValkyriePhoenix, ShiieldMaidenofGondor, Valkyriefromunderland, Notashamed, HellKat, halfelf87, Joey99, HKThauer, pianobookworm, SerialObsessor (DlStar71), Matlida_Nicki, Musichowler, Shadows_of_Shemai, Faiteach Saoirse (jaxx), Tenshinrtaiga, Pen37, BloodElf, Maedae84, Crystallea1321, Elisa, PyraSanada, iwanttoreadmore, RoseRead, Classytragedy, and the 26 new kudo-ers.
> 
> Warning, Steve's night terror is actually one of the more graphic things written in this story. Not quite enough to change the warnings more than a tag update, but still, readers take caution.

Darcy pampered Steve a little, ok, a lot, the nicest hotel, the nicest suite, because he insisted that she have her own bed, and the Presidential suite with one king bed and two full size was the only one that could do that and not make her Janey find somewhere else.  Darcy had no aversion to zonking out in a bed next to a friend, but Jane turned into a heat-seeking octopus when asleep and Darcy was worried she’d have to snap Steve out of a night terror.  She had them too after the War, and she hadn’t served as long and didn’t have his serum enhanced super-memory.  Jane totally got that, having been the one to wake Darcy up at two in the morning when she was sneaking back into the lab and Darcy was thrashing and whimpering.  Darcy’s nightmares were better now, calmer, but she and Jane shared a look when Steve insisted he would be fine.

She got the three of them room service, enough for six, because Steve had an enhanced metabolism and as teeny as Jane was, girl could murder a big steak.  They had learned this in a Texas bar challenge, where Jane displaced the reigning champ without noticing, until someone took her picture, that she’d ordered the challenge meal.  Darcy had a good appetite, but her black and blu veggie burger, fries, salad, and shake, really did not take the lions share.  Steve had a hard time not turning to talk food and wine with the Howlies, and after the third time catching himself, he swallowed hard and apologized to them.

“I’m sorry I keep doing that, I should pay more attention to you two, not people who aren’t here, and would be ancient anyways.”

“Steve, it’s perfectly rational, to you, you saw them young and healthy yesterday,” Jane reassured him.  “The first time I got James on a swap, he kept asking where Natalia was, I don’t even _know_ a Natalia.  But she was someone he knew, and I wasn’t.  You’ll slip, that’s normal.  We’ll catch you, that’s human.”

“Yeah.  Guess they’re all dead, now.  If the war didn’t then… Christ, I’m maudlin and I can’t even _get_ drunk.  I’m a maudlin sober.”

“Wow, Jane, our boyfriends have something in common!” Darcy smiled.  “And all the boys are fine, if cranky and old.  And cranky about being old.  Jones lost his legs at the knee, Dernier’s hearing went out early, like we all knew it would, crazy explosion happy frog, Monty had to get a hip replaced two years ago, but they can do that now, and he’s fine, just very glad he moved to a house with fewer stairs.”

“But, you showed me a memory of Dugan…” Steve trailed off.  He didn’t want to think about that.

“That was misinformed.  A few months ago I did a Swap with Bucky when he was assigned to kill Dugan.  He used the crazy, paranoid fucker’s defense system to wipe his surveillance squad out, brought me in so his conditioning wouldn’t make him do it, and I got Dugan to the resistance while maintaining the timeline.  It always bugged me he said “kukly”, and not a Russian pet name, now I know it was me, talking to me, and I try really hard not to think about that,” she sipped her Moscato.  “Wine helps.”

“You listen to Jacques too much.”

“I can’t help that; he yells when I talk to him, because of the deaf thing, stubborn ass won’t just do letters or sign language, no his hearing is _fine_.  But yeah, the wine was his idea, and not a bad one.”  She popped a fry in her mouth and swallowed before continuing.  “I can’t do much _but_ listen from this time-zone though.  I know many of the players, but I need to keep them from knowing me.  We have some support staff who know me anonymously online, but I try to stay away from ops, my cover is important.”

“So what are you resisting?”

“Calamari is back on the menu, new and not so much improved.  Later, sweetheart, no shop talk at dinner.”

“It’s a rule,” Jane added.  “No mixing Science! and a nice, sit-down meal that involves more than one piece of silverware.  If I can’t theorize about Einstein-Rosen bridges over steak, you two can’t talk world saving.”

“That seems fair, Ma’am.”

“Seriously, use my name.  Last warning.”

“Sorry Dr. Foster.”

“So, Steve,” Darcy said to break the tenseness.  “I made you a new playlist.  It’s on your own iPod and as soon as we get you real ID for this century and a bank account I’ll show you how to buy more songs.”

“Aw, thanks, Angel, does it have any of that one singer, Swift, her name was, I liked Picture to Burn.  It was a real good Torch song, I like that she didn’t sing about wanting him back.”

“No, we do not mention the TSwift days,” Jane said sharply, pointing a steak knife at him.  “I had to put a ban on her playing The Story of Us in the lab.”

“God, you leave a song on repeat one time… but Jane is right, when I was in a not good place, Story of Us was kinda my theme song.  I kept most of the sadder stuff off yours.  It’s got Marina and the Diamonds though, and you liked her, right?  Also Black Veil Brides, Katy Perry, and Kenny Chesney, you have some diverse tastes, my dude.  I love you for it, but you’re weird.”

“Can you blame me?  Home was Big Band Swing I could _not_ dance to, and crooners, nothin’ but crooners.  You gave me this huge pallet of thousands of colors, not just the visual ones.”

“And now you are a musical Jackson Pollack and it is damn hard to make you a mix.  Thank god Bucky’s practically builds itself.  Eighties power ballads, sixties freedom fighter songs, Postmodern Jukebox, and then the strange thing he has for girl power rock, I really think he’s going to like Cherri Bomb.”

“Mmhmm.  Angel, you said he was… that it was bad?”

“He’s been served off season Calamari every meal for a few too many meals, of course it’s bad.”

“Is there a reason you’re not… saying it?” he asked her and she sighed.

“Reasonable paranoia.  Long tentacles.  I forgot the bug zapper in the van?  Take your pick.  We’ll get him back; I just want to get your feet under you first.”

“He should try to get some sleep soon,” Jane said around a mouthful of baked potato.  “It’s 9pm, and getting back on a regular schedule of sleep is helpful.”

“I slept for near on seventy years, Doctor Foster, I don’t feel like sleeping much.”  Jane opened her mouth and Darcy silenced her with a look.

“Pot, I see you met kettle?  She is right Steve, even if she is a giant insomniac hypocrite.  And we busted ass getting here, I need sleep too.”

“Alright, I’ll try.  Night, Angel.”  He kissed her head and went to his own bed.  Darcy fussed at Jane until she tucked in and was out almost instantly.  Then Darcy got in her own bed and fell asleep.

<^>

Steve did try to sleep, but it was hard.  He had too many thoughts.  Hydra was still alive and well, and holding Bucky captive and using him.  Darcy was now the leader of a resistance group that had to operate so deeply in the shadows that she didn’t contact her operatives and was scared to even say the word for what they fought.  He saw the fight, the years of war and horror on her face.  She hid it well, but she had been fighting a very real war, as real as the one they shared, while he was sleeping.  He knew it was unfair, he’d been frozen, he’d tried to give her help.  But his thoughts kept circling around that.  Bucky and Darcy had been fighting, while he slept.

When he finally drifted off sometime past midnight, he dreamed of the Howlies, and Peggy and even Howard and Phillips in a big dance hall to welcome him home, only when he reached for them, to hug them or slap their backs, they turned into dust and the cheers turned into wails.  Everyone was gone.  But at the far end of the dance hall, Darcy stood there in a pretty burgundy dress he remembered from her senior prom, all layers and trails of sheer ruffled fabric like a fairy princess, her hair up and trails of stray ringlets framed her face and she looked like a dream, only it quickly turned into a nightmare.  As he walked towards her, the fairy princess dress slowly became rags soaked in blood and the sweet little lace gloves turned into blood dripping from her hands as she reached for his face when he got to her.

“Dance with me Steven, I never got to dance with you,” she said and stumbled forward as her strappy shoes became barbed wire.  The dance hall floor became the black mud of a battlefield that hasn’t seen real rain, something he knew too well.  The wet dirt churned up by fighting, the mud sticky and cloying with the sick, sweet scent of blood and the reek of death everywhere.  A band played music on the stage from behind fencing, all gaunt and in suits of threadbare grey and white stripes with yellow stars and pink triangles on their lapels.  Darcy moaned and pitched into his arms.

“Darcy… Sweetheart, Angel, what happened?”

“War, war and torture, squids and death, always more death….”  She giggled, high pitched and horrifying.  “Death that should have been us, you and me and Bucky and all of us dead and ash….  Ring around the rosey, pockets full of posies,” red poppy blossoms fell from her lips.  “Ashes, ashes, we all fall….  We all fall, Steven, Bucky and you, and I was there, did you know that?  All the way down the rabbit hole and off with our heads.”  She tilted her head.  “Where was I?  Oh, yes, ashes.  My people made into ashes, the murder goes unpunished, soon we’ll all be ashes.  Ashes, ashes, we all fall _down_!”

“DARCY!” he cried out as she crumpled to the ground.

“I’m here, Steve, I’m here.”

He sat up and looked around him.  The hotel, Darcy beside him, petting his hair and curled up in a blue NASA sleep shirt with her legs bare to him.  He must have been staring, since she moved his face to look at her.

“Legs pretty on pretty girl, but pretty girl want pretty boy to sleep now, yes?”

“I’m not a caveman, Darcy.”

“Good, you had me worried.  Either you regressed or were having some bad shellshock.  Bad shellshock I can help with, going Neanderthal, not so much.  Need to talk?”

“I don’t want to relive that dream.”

“I hear you.  But it wasn’t real in any way other than the ways you let it be real now that you are awake, you get to choose how much power it has in your life, you are the boss of it, not the other way around.  We learned that during the war, remember?  The hospital, the doctors, I know they told me that, I’m sure they told you.  Come here, lay on me and let me sing to you.”  She beckoned him into her arms.

“Darce….” He pulled away and she put a finger on his lips.

“Hush, come here, you scared me and I want to hold you.  I didn’t know it was that scary on the outside until tonight.  Jane is tougher than I thought, and I already thought she was a badass.  She did this for me, you know, when it was bad.  Let me pay it forward.”  She opened her arms again and this time he let her pull him in.

He settled into her arms, head on her breast where he could hear her heart.

“Come my love I'll tell you a tale, of a boy and girl and their love story….”  As she sang she carded fingers through his hair and he felt himself relax.

When he slept again, he had no dreams he remembered once he woke up.

<^>

In an undisclosed location in a vault, Alexander Peirce re-read the report.  Rogers was loose.  Fury had let him go, with a civilian who had no record with S.H.I.E.L.D.  He was ranting about all this to the cryotube, because he couldn’t rant to a live person.  He didn’t know the cryo had stopped freezing brain processes ages ago, a few too many interactions between electric shocks and Einstein-Rosen bridges.  He had no way of knowing about the bridges, so how could he know?

The man in the tube would have smiled if it weren’t for the numbing cold that did force him into a torpor-like state, and the fact he knew he still needed to play the mindless, obedient attack dog.  Darcy Lewis had swept Steve Rogers right out from under the Not Steve, who had stopped looking like Steve many missions back.  He had freedom, open air, blue skies, and Darcy.  A dream come true.  Of course, and the man in the tube knew this, even if he didn’t remember his own name, Steve would never call it a dream come true until the man in the tube had it too.  Steve would fight.  He always fought.  He’d fight, and Darcy would fight, and then there would be freedom, freedom and the sky and Darcy and Steve.  The sky, the one thing that you can’t take away, not forever.  Darcy who protects and shelters and keeps secrets for those she deems worthy, and Steve who fights and stands up again with a smirk, and tries to free the world, even when he can only reach some of it, even when the world isn’t acting particularly worthy.  The Not Steve and his people with their missions would never understand that.  But soon, soon there would be Darcy and Steve and sky that can't be taken away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Zonking out- slang for falling asleep.  
> Challenge meal- a bizarre, mostly American (I think, correct me international readers if I'm wrong) tradition of eating a ridiculously large meal in a short span of time by yourself. They can be very expensive, but usually if you can finish in the time limit, it's free. The Champ is the one with the fastest time.  
> Black and blu- not a typo, a burger with Cajun seasoning and blu cheese crumbles. Darcy orders the veggie because she actually likes veggie burgers done right and a fancy hotel restaurant would do them right, not for weight issues.  
> Maudlin- an old-fashioned word for mopey or depressed, often used with the word drunk, like a weepy drunk.  
> Frog- WWII American slang for French person, NOT a derogatory here, although it can be used that way.  
> Moscato- a sweet white wine, very tasty and good for lightweight drinkers.  
> Big Band Swing- very energetic and peppy, meant to dance to.  
> Crooners- Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra, 'nuff said.  
> Jackson Pollack- an artist known for vibrant and clashing colors in random designs.  
> Bug zapper- a device to detect and jam listening devices.  
> Shellshock- the WWII word for PTSD.
> 
> Notes:  
> Many victims of PTSD deny the PTSD, claim to be fine, when they clearly are holding on by a thread. Forcing them to confront it is not as helpful as say, an intervention for an alcoholic and can make that thread snap. Jane and Darcy do the right thing here, waiting for the issue to show as a symptom (both the irrational belief he is wrong in instinctively reaching for his support network and the night terror), treating it, and letting him know it is OK to accept help.
> 
> Deafness can be hard to accept, especially if it hits young, and with Dernier being the bomb guy, he had ear damage that pobably caused early deafness. They knew it would, but when it happened he went into denial. That's pretty common.
> 
> Torch song- can be of two types, the "I'm so in love with you I feel like I'm burning" song and the "My man done me wrong and I hate him" song, although it was not until post war Torch songs moved into the My man done me wrong so fuck that loser, I'm over it zone. For Steve "My man done me wrong" was usually followed by by "but love is forever so I will stand by him even though he's scum". Steve does not like this message. A man does you wrong, you set the bastard's clothing on fire.
> 
> Story of Us is a Taylor Swift song that has a refrain I think fits the Post-Planes Trains and Omigodfeels chapter: "I don't know what to say since the twist of fate/when it all broke down and the story of us/looks a lot like a tragedy now."
> 
> All artists mentioned in the playlist discussion are either on the Official Bodies in Time soundtrack, or on the Avengers Album, notably Black Veil Brides and Cherri Bomb. They exception is Katy Perry, and the song is Firework, which was a huge hit when this is set and I really think Steve would get the feeling of being told over and over you aren't anything, only to learn you are in fact, a firework.
> 
> Additionally, PMJ did not come out until later, but I'm setting them as debuting earlier because Bucky and Steve would be all over songs from Darcy's time sounding like songs they grew up with, or from eras they missed.
> 
> I borrowed concepts for Steve's night terror liberally from Age of Ultron, but did not duplicate it. I basically just took the empty dance hall and made it worse. The band is based on the prisoners of the concentration camps, who wore thin and re-washed pajama-like uniforms, and wore identification markers (yellow Stars of David were the Jewish prisoners, pink triangles for anyone on the queer spectrum) to help prevent cooperation among prisoners.
> 
> The poem about ring around the rosey was about plague, poseys were to banish illness and the ashes were the cremains of the plague dead, and falling down was about dying. Poppies in particular were chosen because they are used to remember the dead of WWI, and the horror of that was something Steve grew up with, poppies are a death-flower to him, but unlike calla lilies, they represent violent and early deaths.
> 
> "Down the rabbit hole" and "off with their heads" are lines from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, a very creepy book that is somehow children's lit.
> 
> She sings the end credits song from The Princess Bride.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Teaser:
> 
>  
> 
> To: The_Lieu  
> From: AwwUsername  
> Subject: Re: SHOWTIME  
> Cannot aid due to Nasty Aunt Tess detail. She’s too chatty and I think we might see a wine-mom incident.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy runs a resistance, helps Steve shop for clothes, and takes him to see Star Wars.
> 
> Steve decides waking up next to Darcy is great, makes the bad and good decision to challenge her, and offers to watch Jane while Darcy plots.
> 
> Bucky delivers some crucial information and helps Darcy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Fest! To Ye, quadrad, Valkyriefromunderland, UltraCute, ValkyriePhoenix, Reesachan (Clymenestra), Notashamed, halfelf87, SerialObsessor (DlStar71), pianobookworm, BloodElf, Musichowler,RavenWoodbane, aquadrop25,LostDeviant, Elisa, iwanttoreadmore, LadyLaner, Shadows_of_Shemai, Selene_Aduial,mouseymightymarvellous, Joey99, SionnachOiche3, phoenix_173, Matlida_Nicki, LaughingCat, Chikalupe, racecz5, Beth_Mac and the 37 new kudo-ers.
> 
> Ten points to anyone who can name Darcy's contacts in the group email

Darcy began her morning by wiggling out of super-soldier arms.  Steve made a very cute pouty face until she moved her pillow into his arms.  Then she brewed coffee, ordered five breakfasts, and pulled up her email to start coordinating her comrades in the resistance.  She answered several small requests to act, sorting them into "Yes? Duh", "Needs More Research", and "Not Yet" categories and letting her regional leaders handle the rest.  She had maybe ten people who reported to her directly, but many individuals, she didn’t know how many, reported to them.  She had the spy in Advanced Idea Mechanics look more deeply at what research was being funded so the response team would be prepared or she could use a less active method, she forwarded an email from Hope Van Dyne to her father, since direct mail was problematic for them, and okay-ed a strike on a Somali pirate crew being funded by Hydra.  Then she sent maybe the most important group email of her life.

**Sender: The_Lieu**

**To: Fresno!Ace, LeBoumBoum, Monty’s_Boa_Constrictor, StickOfMyOwn, Sabotage-My-Shoe, Write_That_Down, AfricanBulletAnt, LuckyNo.13, Itsy_Bitsy, AwwUsername**

**Subject: SHOWTIME-URGENT**

**Some of you know this, others do not.  Kid From Brooklyn has been recovered, alive, well, and is in my keeping.  I need all available eyes, ears, and any alternate sense organs turned on DC five minutes ago.  Last known location of Last POW Standing is a bank vault in the DC area.  Find him.  Now.**

**-Lieu**

She waited a moment, tore her eyes from the screen and poured coffee, which summoned Jane in a stupor.  Darcy got her settled with the mug of super sweet coffee, poured one for Steve, and took in in to him.  After he kissed her thoroughly and inhaled his dose of coffee, one sugar, splash of cream, he stood up, only to realize he was in the clothes from the day before.

“We need to take you shopping,” Darcy declared.  Her computer dinged several times.  “Gotta check that, first though.”

**To: The_Lieu**

**From: AwwUsername**

**Subject: Re: SHOWTIME**

**Cannot aid due to Nasty Aunt Tess detail.  She’s too chatty and I think we might see a wine-mom incident.**

**To: The_Lieu**

**From: Itsy_Bitsy**

**Subject: Re: SHOWTIME**

**Going to Russia in 24.  KFB will need clothing, on route to assist.**

**To: The_Lieu**

**From: Fresno!Ace**

**Subject: Re: SHOWTIME**

**On it, will coordinate efforts, give our best.**

Darcy smiled.  “Ok, so we’re getting the scariest personal shopper ever and Fres is tracking down where exactly our dance partner is.”

“Fres, Fresno… as in…?”

“Yup.  I just got used to calling him that when he crawled into some tech-laden hideout and became a username on the web full time.”  She spun the laptop for him.  “See?”

“And Itsy Bitsy?”  The door opened.

“Hi, what name are you using now?” Darcy asked the woman who always seemed really familiar but also not at all.  Like a kid from high-school at the five year reunion.

“I’m back to Natalia, for the old country trip.”  The red head closed the door.  “Wow, I am very hard to impress, so take that seriously,” she told Steve in an even voice.

“Natalia, I think I…" a thousand pennies dropped in Darcy's skull.  "Were you ever in a place… ballet and bullet wounds?”

“I don’t talk about that,” she replied flatly.

“Neither do I.  If you ever need to not talk, I’m easier to get to than Zima.”

“I haven’t heard that name in years….”

“I haven’t been called that name in a year.  Little less, compression issues.  It was early in his work; I was there more often.  It’s not important.  You grew up, moya malen'kiy pauk.”

“And your Russian has not improved.  I brought boots, he left the wreck of his at HQ.”  She fussed at Steve and ushered him off to shop, Darcy and Jane bemusedly tagging along and debating the merits of plaid.

Later, as Steve came out in black jeans a grey tee that clung in all the right spots, and a denim jacket, he complained the shirt had shrunk.  Darcy, who had seen Natalia swap his shirts for one size lower, shook her head.  “No, I think it looks fine.  Jane, opinions?”

“He could rake in a few hundred a minute just by walking into a male strip joint, he’s good,” the astrophysicist said after a short glance up from her calculations.  “What in the hell is dark energy doing over the Mojave?”

“Eric is there, and our intel says something’s up.  This happened a few times, when that new element got integrated into the system.  It’s a Tess power surge, Jane,” Darcy told her.

“I wonder if Eric could get me into there, I’m sure this is what I’m missing.”

“No, Jane, Tess A. Rackt is not someone you mess with.  Find another way.”  Looking at her man, she slipped an arm around his waist.  “I found a theater doing a Star Wars marathon, I called, and they are indeed showing them in the right order.  It’s five movies, but I think we have the stamina.”

“There’s a right and wrong order?” Steve asked as they left Jane to her Science! and her calculations.

“Yeah, 4, 5, 2, 3, 6.  Machete order.  It’s the best way to watch them.”

“What about 1, isn’t the first one sort of important?”

“No, four is the first one, and Episode One was pointless, and it has some really bad writing and at least one character most of the world wants dead.”

“Fair enough.”

Ten hours later, they staggered out of the movie theater arguing playfully about what plot points were best and if it was Luke’s story or Anikin’s, although they kept switching points of view mid-argument.  They crawled into bed beside each other so Darcy wouldn’t wake Jane and fell asleep.

<^>

Steve decided upon waking that he wanted to wake up beside Darcy every single day ever.  Her hair was a mess, she’d forgotten her make-up and the sharp eyeliner had smudged softly into her shimmery eye powder.  He wanted to draw this, but wasn’t sure if she’d object and he couldn’t get it right if he woke her.  Art suffered for love, and he did love her, so he didn’t reach for the sketch pad they’d bought on the shopping trip.

A stray lock of hair fell onto her nose and he shifted it aside so she wouldn’t sneeze.  She scrunched he face up.  “Too early Jane.  No science.”

“I’m really doing something wrong here if you think I’m Jane.”

She opened her eyes and sat up rapidly, scanning his body, still clothed beside her.  “Did… oh god.”

“Relax, nothing happened besides sleep.  It _was_ our first date; I don’t move _that_ fast.  I _am_ ninety-four.”

“No, I knew you wouldn’t… not when I couldn’t remember it.  I knew that.  But sometimes in my sleep I… hurt people.  It happened once in the hospital, the orderly came to take some blood and I decked him.  Hard.  But I felt horrible about it and they figured out I hadn’t known it was him, so it’s not like I’m a reformed serial puncher, I just… when I sleep I don’t always know.”

“Darcy, love, I’m a super soldier, I’m probably more at risk of hurting you.”

“Steve, no offence, but I could take you.  I scared the ever-loving crap out of Thor when he woke me up for breakfast, and I took him to the floor.  His bones are like, three times as dense, thank god, but I could have killed him except for the alien thing.  Jane developed some damn good reflexes, too.”

“Darcy,” Steve sighed, “I’m not questioning your ability, I’m just saying I got stronger.”  The next thing he knew he was pinned face down to the amazingly soft bed, arms held behind him with one hand as her other stroked his face.

“Which is stronger, soft, or hard?”

“Soft,” he laughed.  “I remember the lesson.  I can still get free.”

“Try it, soldier boy.  I dare you,” she teased.  He tried to pop his hands free of her grip, but she shifted and he couldn’t move them.  So he tried to roll, and somehow, Darcy popped up off him and landed straddling his lap.  She smirked at him and rolled her hips.  Suddenly breaking out of her hold was the last thing he wanted to do.  She leaned down, her hair curtaining off the rest of the world as she sprinkled kisses on his jaw, never going near his lips.  Her body shifted again and she pulled his hands from her hips and pushed them above his head, onto the padded headboard.

“Darcy….”

“What was that about getting free?”

“I was very, very wrong, you will always win in a fight, you are the stronger, faster, better opponent, but for the love of God, woman I’m dying here.”

“Well I can’t let that happen after all my hard work getting you back.”  She bent in for a deeper kiss, still holding his hands up.  He happily surrendered to the one fight he was glad to lose, the only one he would give up on, the one of resisting his love as she kissed him and nipped at his skin and ran a hand up under his too small shirt.  He wasn’t sure how, that shirt was way too tight, but her hands drove most of his questions away.  She pulled back slowly, letting go of his hands.

“Darcy?”

“That was absolutely fantastic, but I severely need food first if we’re going to keep going, and maybe a shower.  I will take care of you, Babe, but the body needs food and the clock says I missed Jane’s morning check-in to make sure she eats.”

“I understand.  I could eat too.  And Buck and I used to share showers, you know, use less water.”

“Very eco-conscious of you Captain Rogers.  I like the way you think.”

She ran out to check on Jane, he heard a fair amount of muted scolding as he got up and brushed his teeth.  Darcy had left the door open a bit, so he knew Jane had stayed up all night.  When he walked into the main room, Jane tried to get him involved.

“You don’t have much of a leg to stand on Miss Walk of Shame!  You spent the night with your boy toy!  No offence.”

“None taken Doctor Foster, but trust me, if Darcy and I had done anything worth a walk of shame, you wouldn’t have been able to focus on whatever you were doing.  It would have gotten loud.”

“Oh, I don’t know; could you have gotten me loud?” Darcy asked him teasingly as she replaced Jane’s coffee.  “No naps, you know the consequences,” she scolded.

“Who said I meant you?  I haven’t been able to make much noise during any sex I had, because idiots, and war zones, and idiots in war zones, but I was really close to making sounds like a cat in heat this morning, and we were both fully clothed.  I let you get me naked, things are liable to get loud.”  He sipped the coffee she had poured him and shrugged.  “Fact of life.”

“God I wish I could say ‘we’ll be in our bunk’,” Darcy told him.  But I’ve gotten pings out of the Tess project and I need to give Clint orders, which means…”

“Getting intel to give smart orders, I know.  You kick ass, Angel, I’ll poke Jane if she nods off.”  He kissed her cheek which involved a bit of bending, then sat down next to Doctor Foster at the table her notes were on.  Darcy smiled at him and muttered about agentus interruptus before settling down at her own computer.

<^>

In the tube, the man listened as the bad Not Steve gave an order to sabotage something.  He didn’t know what, it wasn’t a word he remembered, but it felt wrong, very wrong, like when he first saw the red squid symbol.  He waited until the Not Steve left and sent as strong a pulse as he could to Darcy.

_DARCY!_

_Yeah, what’s, how are you doing this from the tube?_

_No idea.  What’s a tesseract and why do I really not want them sabotaging it?_

_Powerful, deadly, and bad.  He ordered it?  You heard him?_

_The tube isn’t soundproofed.  He talks to me, it, sometimes.  He’s angry about the real Steve.  He said to remove the control chip on the spatial… something, sorry, I can’t remember._

_No, this is good.  Well, it’s horrible, but it gives me a good position to work from.  Thank you Bucky, I love you._

_I love you too, Darcy.  And Steve, I love Steve too.  True?_

_Very true, and he loves you.  I have to stop this so you still have a world to come home to, but we will come and get you out.  I promise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> (Darcy Code)  
> Kid From Brooklyn- Steve.  
> Last POW Standing- Bucky.  
> Nasty Aunt Tess or just Tess- the Tesseract.  
> (Clint Code)  
> Too Chatty- energy spikes.  
> Wine-mom incident- meltdown or overload.  
> (Russian)  
> Zima- Winter, a shortening of Winter Soldier.  
> Moya malen'kiy pauk- my little spider.  
> (Standard Slang)  
> Walk of shame- the act of going home the next day after a sexual rendezvous in the same clothes as the night before.  
> Boy-toy- a man who is seen as his partner's sexual plaything. Sometimes an insult because of gender norm bull about men owning women not the other way around.  
> Cat in heat- a loud yowling yell associated with cats having sex, now also applied to humans having sex.  
> Agentus interruptus- a play on childus interruptus, which itself is a play on coitus interruptus, being interrupted during sex.
> 
> Notes:  
> As a reminder, Fresno!Ace is Morita, and Darcy calls him Fres.
> 
> "The penny dropped" is a phrase used to mean a connection you hadn't seen clicked into place. Darcy just has more than one penny.
> 
> Steve's organic clothing would have been destroyed by removal from the ice unless thawed, freeze-dried, and carefully restored. While I can buy the salvage of his uniform's leather or textile parts for the Smithsonian, the risk of losing a toe was too high not to remove his boots quickly with scissors and then just re-create them.
> 
> Machete order was conceived of by the blog No Machete Juggling, which handles tech and programming nerd stuff, but also occasionally dips into the personal views of the blogger, including the best way to watch the Star Wars saga. You can find more on the reasons behind the Machete order by googling it, it's the first thing that pops up.
> 
> Sometimes people with PTSD do sleep-fight, and can react violently to waking up. This usually leads to guilt and other nasty feelings. Without knowing it, Steve does the right thing here, getting her to use her soft fight skills in a fun way that is gratifying.
> 
> Darcy's no nap policy is an attempt to help reset Jane's sleep clock to something less nocturnal. Astrophysicists, especially ones that do field work constantly battle this.
> 
> "We'll be in our bunk" was a recurring line from Firefly, when Wash and Zoe wanted to go have sex as privately as you can on a tiny little spacecraft crewed by your friends, family and co-workers.
> 
> Asking "True?" after saying something is a common way for people with memory issues to confirm what their brain is saying.
> 
> Teaser:
> 
>  
> 
> “Yeah, but I did get a treatment, experimental, not offered anymore. I was kinda the only recipient without really nasty side effects. And besides, now you can go on in your career and be the Judge from that Alice’s Restaurant song, you know, where the lawyer walks in with 27, 8 by 10, color glossy photos with circles and arrows and notations on the back, and then the judge comes in…”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy sends a warning, eats pizza, stops a robbery and meets a lawyer.
> 
> Steve handles shellshock, jokes with a lawyer, and learns about vaccines.
> 
> Bucky has a laugh at Pierce's confusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I have changed some dialogue and the notes, due to better information being provided. My apologies for giving inaccurate information, I was wrong.
> 
> Love Fest! To UltraCute, iwanttoreadmore, quadrad, HighKeyCapFanLowKeyHYDRAAgent, Beth_Mac, Valkyriefromunderland, ValkyriePhoenix, mouseymightymarvellous, SerialObsessor (DlStar71), Reesachan (Clymenestra), halfelf87, Notashamed, Joey99, pianobookworm, Shadows_of_Shemai, Musichowler, Selene_Aduial, racecz5, SionnachOiche3, lovewar66, tigrislilium, Matlida_Nicki, biblioworm, psyche29, and the 20 new kudo-ers.
> 
> Not all the notes fit, translations here:  
> (Codes)  
> Calamari- Hydra.  
> Aunt Tess- the Tessract.  
> Keep an Eye out (capitalized inappropriately)- be ready to be Hawkeye.  
> (Standard)  
> Does not know jack- knows nothing.  
> Straight line- the opening for a joke.  
> Hokum- Nonsense, hogwash, idiocy.

**To: AwwUsername**

**From:** **The_Lieu**

**Subject: Tess**

**Calamari is not good for Aunt Tess.  Messes with her spatial control something.  Keep an Eye out.**

Darcy only had to wait a minute before Clint replied to her warning.

**To: The_Lieu**

**From: AwwUsername**

**Always.  Happy Hunting.**

Darcy swallowed hard and looked at the clock.  Shit.  Noon.  Her connections with Bucky were always a crap-shoot on time, and now most of her morning was gone.  Although, waking up late in Steve’s bed had been… not something she’d object to doing again.  But since she’d zoned out, it might be best to butter him up some.

“Babe, it’s lunchtime, you want to order in, or go out?”

“Let’s go out, we’ve never eaten in modern New York.”

“Cool, I’ll call the concierge to ask for recommendations.  You mind snapping Jane out of the haze for me?  She needs to consume something; I think the mini fridge has hot pockets since the room came with a microwave.”

“We can take her with us, you know, I don’t mind.”

“Really?  Best boyfriend ever.  You pull her out of the Matrix and I’ll get us directions.”

They wound up taking a cab, since the place all three agreed on was a pizza joint in Hell’s Kitchen.  The wait staff seemed overwhelmed watching three people eat three extra large pizzas and arguing over Steve’s anchovy issue, because as far as Darcy was concerned, they had no place on pizza or anywhere but the base of Caesar dressing, but Steve loved them.  Everyone is a little weird, she reminded herself as she flagged for soda refills while he ate the last fish tainted slice.  At least the Dr. Pepper he drank would kill the taste.  Somehow, Steve got into what looked like a very close call of a fight with an old man with an accent so thick, Darcy had no idea what he was saying.  She was about to stop him from berating the poor man, when the guy slugged his arm, said something and walked off.

“I like that guy,” Steve told them.

“You were fighting with him,” Jane said slowly.

“What?  No, that, that’s just how you talk baseball.  It’s all anger and hand waving and agreeing that the ump was blind.  And, now, apparently being salty that the Dodgers left and it’s a lesser evil choice between Mets and Yankees.”  He shot Darcy a disappointed look, but not a strong one.  “You never told me about the Dodgers.”

“When would have been a good time Steve?  During the Depression, which I remember living up to that name, or during the War when your focus dictated who lived and who got a folded flag sent home to their Ma?  Or the ice, when you were already mopey?”

“Fair enough.  But really?  The Dodgers, I thought you could at least count on the Dodgers.”

“What in the name gave you that idea?” Jane asked him as she stole the last pepperoni slice from Darcy.

They bantered back and forth and when the bill came due, Darcy whipped out the Amex Black that Fury gave her.

“I can’t take that, miss,” said the waiter.  “We don’t have the machine.”

“That’s fine, there’s a drugstore next door, I can go get cash.”

She left Jane and Steve arguing about arm-locks versus leg-locks and decided Jane had definitely spent too much time with James.  Next door she was waiting with a new bottle of body wash and a box of condoms, in case, behind a blind guy in a suit when she saw his shoulders tense.  Glancing up she saw a man with a recognizable bulge in his jacket in the round mirror.

“Down, now!” she yelled and threw the condoms at the guy as he was pulling his gun.  He jolted out of the way and shot his leg.  “Oh you moron, trigger safety is a thing!  Blind guy, I need your tie, or he’s going to bleed out.”

“I’m Matt, actually,” the guy said as he pulled off his tie.

“Hi Matt, if I put your hands on his leg can you hold him steady?  He won’t like this.”  Darcy began to guide Matt only to find his hands unerringly found the correct leg.  Shrugging she used the tie as a tourniquet.  “I don’t think he hit an artery, it’s the wrong color and I don’t smell the right iron content.  Congrats, Idiot Gunman, you’ll live.”

“I’m-”

“Not anyone I care about.  You are Idiot Gunman until that wound heals.  So, Matt, good news and bad news.  Bad news, you are _not_ getting that tie back, I did it tight, ER is going to have to cut it, good news, that tie was horrible and I will buy you a new one.”

“It’s not mine, it’s my friend’s, he likes ugly ties and thinking he tricked me into wearing one.  I let him, it makes him happy.”

“Oh, would you like me to get you the most hideous tie I can find then?” she asked as Steve burst in.  “What the hell, man? You were my collateral until I got the cash!”

“There was a gunshot, Darcy, I thought you… that… I just….”

“Idiot Gunman does not know jack about trigger safety and almost died from thrown condoms, nothing more, Babe.  Oh, and this is Matt, his friend likes ugly ties, and I had to sacrifice one to my own good will saving the moron,” the man protested so she tightened the tie.  “So I’m getting him a new tie, help us pick the worst one?”

“Sure, but wouldn’t he know what his friend likes better than us?”

“I’m blind, no light perception.  Matthew Murdock, Attorney.”  He held a hand in the right direction and Steve shook it.

“That right, huh?  Used to be color blind, myself.  Steve Rogers, Artist.”

“I bet you got as many cracks about your job as I do about mine.”

“Yeah, but I did get a treatment, experimental, not offered anymore.  I was kinda the only recipient without really nasty side effects.  And besides, now you can go on in your career and be the Judge from that Alice’s Restaurant song, you know, where the lawyer walks in with twenty-seven 8 x 10 colored glossy pictures with the circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one, and then the judge comes in…”

“And it’s a typical case of blind Justice,” Matt finished with him.  “That is actually a new blind lawyer joke, I don’t get many new ones.  Good on you.  Yeah, if you don’t mind getting an even worse replacement, Foggy will love it.  But you don’t have to.”

“I know you can’t see it, but I have an Amex Black in my hand, we’re good here,” Darcy told him.  She smiled at how easily Steve was making a new friend.  He didn’t have a card, he was still an intern, but knowing that plight, she got her contacts into his phone and his into hers, in case she ever needed a lawyer.

<^>

Steve’s heart had stopped a split second when he heard the gun.  Then he’d immediately tackled Jane to the ground and once the situation, veteran, gunshot, instinct, was all explained to the very concerned staff at the pizza joint, he went outside, oriented where the sound had been and sprinted to Darcy.

Finding her patching up a dumbass with a blind lawyer and offering to buy him a guaranteed ugliest tie ever was not as surprising as it should have been.  Matt was actually very nice, and gave him directions to a good Catholic church, since his old one had been torn down while he was out of the country.  Which was not a lie but made him feel guilty.  It must have shown, since Darcy slapped his head.

“No moping, I dealt with you moping at me all last year, no more.”

“Fine, sure thing Angel.”

“You’re lying, and I want you to know I know that, but ok.”

The police and ambulance came and took the inept robber, and all their statements and contacts, Darcy finished buying her things, and they made plans to get together with Matt to buy a tie after he got done making up for his absence to his bosses at a fancy sounding firm.

“Guess this wasn’t the date you wanted, Angel,” he said in the cab back to the hotel.

“You covered in pizza sauce from that tackle, and me up to my elbows in blood from saving a dumbass robber?  I think it was perfect.”  Darcy smiled at him.

“It certainly fit you both, Steve jumping into a situation without thinking, Darcy helping an idiot survive, sounds like a recreation of your first meeting,” Jane said from the front seat.

“I let you read that journal in strict confidence, Jane,” Darcy scolded, but Steve could tell there was no heat.  “And you met your boyfriend by hitting him with a van.  Twice.”

“But you tased him.”

“Yes, yes I did, and that is why he adopted me.  Strong warrior culture, that dude, me tasing him was an excellent life choice.”

“I’d say you make a lot of excellent life choices, but I feel like that would be a perfect straight line for a crack about me an’ Buck.”

“Have you looked in a mirror, lately?  I have a long and strong track of good life choices going back to the 30’s.”  He moved to kiss her.  “Eh, no, not until you shower.  You smell like marinara sauce and garlic salt.”

“I feel someone should mention the blood reek coming of Darcy, and I don’t think your man wants to.”

“What blood reek?” he asked.  Then he sniffed a little.  Huh.  “Oh, that, uh, I’m used to that smell.  Army.  And before that, shite-kicker from Brooklyn, and also, my Ma worked at a disease ward in a hospital before she died.  Now, you start smelling like some of her patients, I will be worried, but mostly blood is just white noise.  White smell?  What do you even call that?”

“Background, it covers a lot,” Darcy said, sniffing her own hands, which had much of the blood rinsed off.  “And I can’t get most of the stuff that killed your Mom's patients, I got the shots for them years ago.”

“Shots?”

“Vaccines, preventative medicine, a few injections and I can’t get measles, mumps, polio, hepatitis, tetanus or like basically most of that stuff.  Shots aren’t fun, but I read up on the symptoms while waiting for the doctor, and well… worth it.”

“Wow, that’s swell.”  Steve pondered that, a needle prick and then you never had to worry about your kid dying, or being put in an iron lung or paralyzed or any of it.  No more nurses like his Ma bringing home the things they fought.

“For the love of God, tell that to the Anti-Vaxxers,” muttered Jane.  “Two hundred and twenty-two cases last year, because they think the vaccine causes autism and they’d rather have dead kids than weird ones.”

“Autism?”

“Brain thing, some people are born with it,” Darcy explained, “can also occur beside being very bright, but the people who have it do have to work a little harder to blend in.  Bad cases can shut a kid down, but people like Janey are fine as long as someone reminds them to eat and sleep and stuff.”  She shot a look up at Doctor Foster who was fidgeting.  “But it’s not caused by vaccines.  That’s hokum.”

“Bad science,” Jane said the way the Howlies used to say ‘Arnim Zola’.

“I’m not good at science, but you want me to go punch someone?  I’m good at punching and I think it’s rotten that they’d put someone at risk like that.  Measles, not fun.  The fever, runny nose, inflamed eyes and sore throat weren’t too bad, but the cough near about killed me and the rash wasn’t pretty either.  Then the vomiting and the shaking, but I was out of it by then, Ma had to handle that.  Came to near about two weeks later and I had pneumonia on top of it.”

“Steve, Babe, the symptoms of measles don’t include vomiting or shaking, I think you had encephalitis, that comes after sometimes, especially with your vitamin deficiencies.  Brain swelling.  You’re lucky you aren’t dead, Honey.”  Steve looked at her and realized Darcy was serious, and scared.  He thought how he’d feel if she’d almost died before he met her and pushed her hair behind her ear.

“I knew that I was lucky when you saved my life, Angel.  And you can’t get it twice, right?”

“No, but we should probably get him the H1N1 and other new stuff,” Jane called from where she’d straightened out to look at him.  “Think Director Pirate Guy can get him a good physical?  It’s not like he has insurance to pay the bills.”

“I was afraid I’d have to call him.”  Darcy sighed.  “I’ll contact him when we get back and are all showered.”

<^>

“What do you mean, you couldn’t find him!” Not Steve yelled at the phone.  “I don’t care if he’s in a meeting, you get him!”

The man in the tube wondered if the bubbly feeling in his chest was happiness or not.  He saved those meanings with Darcy, but he knew he liked it.

“What do you mean business dinner?  Nick Fury does not do business dinners, not since we almost got him with that poisoned appetizer plate.”  He listened and hung up without saying goodbye or signing off or even giving an order.  He looked at the man in the tube.  “A Golden Corral?  What the hell?”  If he had bothered to look as he left, he’d have seen the slight fogging of a huff of laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:  
> The concierge of a good hotel knows the city inside and out, and can give recommendations and directions to almost anywhere you want to go. They are powerful people, and much like librarians and telephone operators should be given huge respect, because they are usually the difference between a 4 star hotel and a 5 star hotel.
> 
> Some high end hotels put pre-stocked mini-fridges in the room so the guest does not have to leave if they get munchy, and the cost of the products taken is added at the end of stay to your bill.
> 
> The Matrix was the first in a series of movies about humanity living in a virtual world as batteries for computers that took over the planet. The virtual world was called "the Matrix".
> 
> Anchovies are a salted fish that used to be pretty much mandatory on pizza, a relative delicacy in Steve's youth. Many people do not like them, because of the saltiness, the fish taste, or the fact they are served whole on pizza. Anchovy paste is the base of Caesar salad dressing.
> 
> The Dodgers used to be Brooklyn's baseball team, before moving to Los Angeles after their September 24, 1957 win over Pittsburg.
> 
> A folded flag is given to the family of soldiers who die in a state of honor with the US Armed Forces.
> 
> It's easier with a borrowed card to sign for a purchase and ask for some cash back than to try an ATM, where you need the PIN code. Thus, Darcy shopping and the funniest weapon I have yet written.
> 
> Trigger safety is a way of holding a gun so it cannot go off accidentally. This man blatantly ignored that, probably because he learned to shoot from video games or media, which often show lack of trigger safety. If you choose to own a gun, learn to use the thing safely, for the love of God.
> 
> Tourniquets (a tight band above the bleeding) are good field medicine for stopping bleeding if you know what you're doing. Without training, do not attempt them, you risk your patient losing a limb.
> 
> Arterial blood is a very dark, and smells strongly of rust, because it is heavily laden with red blood cells and oxygen. Paler blood with less smell is indicative of a less life threatening wound, or pernicious anemia as Steve had. With the War, Darcy has now seen and smelled all three.
> 
> Alice's Restaurant is a song by Arlo Guthrie from 1967 about a guy who gets arrested for littering and the prosecutor prepares a big visual show, but the Judge, or Justice, is actually blind, which leads to a pun about "Blind Justice".
> 
> An Amex Black is a credit card with a very high limit.
> 
> All the things Darcy lists as having been vaccinated against are standard state-mandated shots to attend public schools in America, although some parents do file "religious exemptions" to get out of vaccinating their kids. But all those things also were common causes of childhood death in the 1920's, 30's and 40's.
> 
> Steve is fantasizing about a TB vaccine, one does not currently exist, but if one did, he'd be all over promoting that and getting it to the most at risk individuals.
> 
> Jane cites the actual number of measles cases in 2011, most from parents refusing to get their kids protected, because of the (already disproved) bad science Autism scare.
> 
> Autism is a developmental disorder, that can cause ongoing social problems that include difficulty communicating and interacting with others, repetitive behaviors as well as limited interests or activities, and symptoms that hurt the individual’s ability to function socially, at school or work, or other areas of life. Additionally, 46% of people on the Autism Spectrum have higher than average intelligence. They may also be able to learn things in detail and remember information for long periods of time, be strong visual and auditory learners, and excel in math, science, music, or art. My Jane is Autistic, which is why she needs a Darcy, to help her with the unpleasant symptoms and cheer the good ones.
> 
> Jane hates bad science as most scientists do, but this is personal to her, hence the venom.
> 
> Insurance is a fact of American medical treatment, and with no legal identity, Steve could not get treated outside of a Free Clinic, and as much as I support those (the older gen of my family all worked in them at one time or another) they are not ideal for what Steve would need, a full work-up by someone with a passing knowledge of his current medically perfect/maybe too perfect state.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy tests Fury, gives him some warning, and enjoys a very good morning with Steve before going ugly tie shopping.
> 
> Steve finds Darcy's tests funny, ugly tie shopping ridiculous and sort of amazing, and gets advice on a good priest.
> 
> And, for something a little different, a look at Loki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Fest! To mouseymightymarvellous, merrysoul, HighKeyCapFanLowKeyHYDRAAgent, quadrad, ValkyriePhoenix, RansLover, aquadrop25, Valkyriefromunderland, Notashamed, Reesachan (Clymenestra), halfelf87, Selene_Aduial, Matlida_Nicki, Shadows_of_Shemai, BloodElf, AliceMadisonParker, Crystallea1321, psyche29, timetravelingvampire, Beth_Mac, Joey99, tigrislilium, racecz5, SionnachOiche3, Musichowler, DreamTillDawn, ElisaC, rosiedeplume, Biogeek, and the 19 new kudo-ers.
> 
> Additional shout out to Biogeek, psyche29 and timetravelingvampire for catching a factual error in the last chapter, Re: TB vaccines. My bad, it's been fixed.

It was close to 9 when Darcy finally dragged Steve out of the Golden Corral they’d picked as a neutral meeting place.  Fury had passed all the tests she dropped into casual conversation, and while he might think she was the weirdest conversationalist ever, she was pretty sure he was clean.  So she gave him the hotel room number, knowing he probably tracked the card anyways because paranoia recognizes its own, and he promised to get a doctor to run a house call.  Then they both watched in fascinated horror as Steve put away nine plates of entrees and then hit the desert bar.

“It’s kinda like watching a car crash, you can’t stop it, but you can’t look away either,” he said while Steve was methodically taking a little of every desert.

“You should have seen those two before I taught them cooking.  Boiled everything.  God it was awful, thank the lord for Mrs. Wu.  Without her ramen and the extra spices she slipped Bucky cause she thought he was hot, I don’t know if they would have made it to the War.”

“Steve Rogers ate ramen?”

“Technically it was Udon.  But I was overhauling that shit at eighteen, man, I did not know jack.  But yeah, I sent Buck over to Little China to buy noodles for the slow-cooks.  Very filling, high carb, and he worked himself half to death, and Steve couldn’t hold weight if you duct-taped it to his hips.  Hence the utter ravishment of the desert bar.”

Fury nodded and slapped a few hundred dollar bills on the table.  “Got your back, Lieu.”

“Good to know.  Also, please go shut down the Mojave thing, it’s bad news.”

“What do you know about Pegasus?”

“The mythical winged horse?  A fair amount, Dr. Jones was a decent teacher in Myth and Lit during undergrad.  Don’t know how it relates to your terminal stupidity project.  Seriously, that thing is dangerous, and when it kills you like it killed the first guy to use it, I’m not going to cry at your funeral.”

“She’s right.  We saw what it did to Schmidt, not pretty.”

“I dunno, the ass end of space was kind of glowy and had nice colors, before it sucked him into oblivion.”

“He disintegrated, Angel.”

“Could not have happened to a more deserving guy, except Zola.”

“Fucking Zola.”

“Amen,” she clinked his glass against his.  “Heard you lot hired him at one point, Nick.  Bad move, that one.  I’d watch anybody who was ever that close to him or any of his projects.  But what do I know?”  She sighed.  “I’m a crazy, paranoid mother fucker with serious scarring.”  Fury grunted and left.

“Did you have to?” Steve asked.  “He was being cooperative.”

“He has pest control issues of the too many legs variety and needed to be warned.  Making a point about my trustworthiness was a side benefit.”

That night she and Steve didn’t even bother pretending they slept together because of Jane, although Darcy did steal all the computers in the room to make her sleep.  They woke up wrapped around each other and proceeded to cement the earlier thought of Steve’s that Darcy made very good life choices with a long and enjoyable morning make-out.  When it looked like things might get more intense, Darcy swore, because the box of condoms was in the main room where they’d dropped the bag to go get showers.

“Angel, you don’t really think we need those?” Steve asked.

“Steve Rogers, super soldier or no, if you think we are doing the nasty without protection, you have lost what little sense the lord gave you.  I am not getting pregnant right now.”  Because, really, just cause the boy couldn’t get an STD didn’t mean she couldn’t get pregnant and the pill was only 91% percent effective for women who sometimes missed a day here or there.  Which was her, with all the swapping.

“Woah, Sweetheart, what gave you the crazy idea I’d do that to you?  I meant, there are lots of ways to have fun that aren’t as risky.  I grew up before reliable prevention was easy to get.  I didn’t date the girls much, but before he hauled himself out of that river in Egypt, Buck told me a few things.”  He slid down the bed as he was talking and then tugged her panties out of his way with his teeth.  He nuzzled her bush, which Darcy would not apologize for leaving au natural, razors and the lady-junk did not mix.  Steve didn’t seem to mind it, and soon she was squirming and demanding and maybe, although she’d lie if asked, begging a little.  Only a little.

Steve switched from nuzzling to kissing and when he found the right spot, his hand came up to spread her open a bit so he could lick and suck.  Darcy felt her back arching involuntarily as a hissed “yessss” escaped her lips, and then it was nothing but the sensations, the warm wetness of tongue, the slight scrape of teeth over less sensitive areas that put her whole body on alert, his hair in her hands, the firm… wait a fucking second.

“Steve?”

“It’s a finger Darce, and I will remove it the second you say to.”

“Oh.  Proceed.”

He did and with vigor, finding her G spot faster than any man previous, then setting up a one two combo of licking her clit and rubbing her G spot until she saw stars.

When she came back to her body, all floaty and happy, Steve had gotten a soft washcloth damp and was gently cleaning her legs.  “What’re you doin’?” she asked in a half-mumble.

“You uh, I didn’t know the ladies did that part, but it got very wet kinda all over and I assumed it would be like mine, and be itchy when it dried so… was that wrong?  I’ve only ever done this with Buck, and we’re both fellas.”

“Not sure I believe that.  You were too good.  Suspiciously good.  Better than any ex or fling ever good.”

“You remember when you were taking Human Sexuality in undergrad?  Um, I may have looked up the section of your textbook on lady’s parts and why they work how they work, and then… considered how to make that a viable plan in case you and I ever… um.”  He buried his face in her thigh.

“Steve, are you seriously blushing for doing research in case we ever had sex, so you could do it right?”

“I know it sounds lame, but…”

“Stop,” she commanded.  “It sounds hot.  If more men put thought into how to do this right, there would be more satisfied women and fewer faked orgasms.  And maybe a lower divorce rate, who knows?  I’m proud of you, Babe.  Now, I do need to feed my scientist and give her back her computer, and then I will come take care of you, promise.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Steve told her as he passed over her clean underwear.  “I got hands, and your smell is all over me, I’m pretty sure that’s going to be a disappointingly short time.  Not the part of super-speed I really want to show you.”

He grabbed the blue and white starred fake leather leggings she had thought he would tease her about from the drawer and Darcy quickly pulled her Wonder Woman costume tee on over her head and heard him chuckle.

“Watch it, buddy, if Princess Diana of Paradise Island ever asks, I might say yes.”

“Well, as long as it’s not another super _hero_ , I guess I’ll have to resign myself.  But if you run off with Bruce Wayne, I’m fighting him.  I know I won’t win against Wonder Woman though.”

“You are such a dork.  To work I must go now.  Yell if you need something.”  Recovering Jane’s stuff, she went to give coffee and computers to Jane, then get more thoroughly groomed and ready.

<^>

Steve drew Jane and Darcy until the doctor came, went through Darcy’s protocol checks, and was allowed to examine him and give him updated vaccines, even if he was pretty sure he couldn’t get anything now.  Then, when the man was gone, he did a landscape of the hotel room’s view.  It was soothing, and he didn’t realize how the time had moved until Darcy stole his pencil so they could shop for a tie with Matt.

Tie shopping was sort of ridiculous.  He’d done this countless times, but now, there was a whole new range of color and pattern and material.  Darcy vetoed a few stores as ‘too classy’ and soon they wound up in a kitschy tourist trap shop debating the plum-backed tie with a chartreuse lady liberty, or the clashing carrot orange, neon teal and rust red attempt at a vertically running cubist skyline.

“This is nice of you guys,” Matt said halfway into the argument of badly paired colors versus the pure offensiveness of chartreuse. “I appreciate the ugliest tie search, but really?  I don’t think anything can top the light-up novelty Christmas tie of ’05.  Just pick one.”  Darcy lit up with the look he was quickly starting to think meant trouble bought the cubist atrocity and dragged them outside and back the way they came.  He followed bemusedly, and was caught up in admiring her to really process Matt grabbing her hoodie and pulling her back as a bike messenger flew past where she would have been standing.

“Wow, Matt, nice skills, dude,” Darcy complimented.

“Are you alright, Darce?” Steve asked her.  She waved him off in favor of continuing to compliment Matt until he turned red.

“It’s not that big a deal, the bikes make a very specific noise, I have to listen for it all the time or I’d get flattened.”  Darcy smiled at the grumbled admission and nodded slightly, which was when Steve got it.  She was testing him, keeping the two of them safe when they had no idea who or what was after them.  Steve squeezed her arm as she took them to a guy with a probably illegal set up of electronics.

“Can you do custom LED work?” she asked the guy.

“Yeah, I can do just about anything pretty mama, what you need?”

“This tie, LED lights in the building looking parts, like little windows.  Fifty bucks if you get it done now.”

“This is a busted-ass tie, woman.  What you want to make it worse for?”

“A hundred if you don’t ask questions and make them twinkle.”

“Done.”

Steve watched in wonder as the man’s hands flew over wires and little LED bulbs and tiny scissors pricked holes in fabric.  Half an hour later, Darcy slapped some bills in the man’s hand and gave Matt the modified tie.

“What’s it look like?” the lawyer asked, running his hands over the bumps of the now twinkling lights of the fake skyline.

“Like Picasso got fucked up on tequila and had a drunk one-night fuck with a cheap, overly home-proud postcard in a fucking ugly Christmas sweater that was on a shitload of crack,” Steve said instantly.  “Or maybe LSD, can acid affect babies?”

“I don’t know, but I love the fact you still punctuate your sentences with liberal amounts of profanity,” Darcy said.

“Oh, damn, I keep forgetting I’m not in the Army anymore.”  Steve slapped his own face, because his Ma wasn’t there to do it.  “I’m sorry, Angel.”

“Steve, I should probably hold a world record in creative cursing, you do not phase me.  I was Army too, remember, everybody heard me swear, _you_ heard me swear.  Swearing does not upset me.”

“It upsets _me_ ,” he told her.  “That I forget.”

“Go to confession,” Matt told him.  “Father Lantom will give you a latte while you confess, or hot chocolate if you need to avoid caffeine, it’s very soothing.  But you kind of have to badger him to give penance, he prefers assigning things that will actually help you, he has this annoying tendency to be right about what you really need.”

“That is not like my old Church.”  Steve thought.  “What’s his stance on, uh” he looked at Darcy.

“Queer rights,” she supplied.  “I can’t in good faith put Steve in an enclosed space with a guy who might talk smack about people we both care about.”

“Love is love, I really don’t think Father Lantom cares, as long as you don’t hurt people with it or do it where small kids could see.”  Matt shrugged and took his tie back to his friend.

“If it’s alright, I want to go to Mass tomorrow, Dollface.”

“Steve, go, it’s fine,” she told him as she held his hand and they walked back towards the hotel.  “Just don’t make me go.  If I go to a Catholic Mass, my Aunt Leora will be all over me about not going to a synagogue for Shabbat in years.  I am happy as one of the unclean heathen masses, thanks.”

“You’re the best, Angel.”  He kissed her hair and let the smell of her perfume fill his mind.

<^>

On a rock that categorically should not support life, Loki traced the lines of energy to Midgard, where waited a great prize.  A flicker appeared, a gap in the steady control exerted by primitive, but highly effective, Midgardian Seidkonur and Seidmadr.  Tracing the pattern of the gap, he saw what must have happened.  The constraints locking away the more potent powers of the Tesseract had been removed.  Which meant he could use it as a doorway into their world.  Where waited the most valuable of prizes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> (Slang)  
> Got your back- I'm looking out for you.  
> The nasty- sex.  
> Kitschy- tacky, cheap.  
> Tourist trap- a place that markets to tourists, looked down on by locals.  
> Pretty mama- a compliment, or a cat call, but in this case just a compliment to get the customer in a spendy mood.  
> Busted-ass- horrible or ugly.  
> Home-proud- very proud of one's house or hometown.  
> (Asgardian)  
> Midgard- Earth  
> Seidkonur and Seidmadr- magic users, or in this case, scientists.
> 
> Notes:  
> Project Pegasus (which I have seen in acronym form, but never found the meaning, so I'm using the word) is the Dark Energy research thing with the tesseract.
> 
> 91% is the combined oral contraceptive efficacy rate for normal, not perfect use as calculated by Planned Parenthood.
> 
> When women climax they sometimes produce a large amount of natural lubrication. Darcy is normal here, Steve just didn't know that happened with women.
> 
> There are many Wonder Woman costume shirts and leggings, and I hold with DC's heroes existing in comics in the MCU.
> 
> Chartreuse is a really eye searing shade of yellow green and it is often mixed up with puce, which is a mauve-purple color. Both are held to be ugly by most of the population.
> 
> Light-up novelty Christmas ties and sweaters are a (weird) thing that I know happens in America and are intentionally as hideous as they can be. For some reason, people love them.
> 
> LED's are light emitting diodes, like tiny bulbs that never or rarely burn out. It's pretty easy to adapt clothing with them.
> 
> Crack and LSD are both street drugs. Crack is known to cause infant deformity and death if used during pregnancy, LSD or 'acid' is known to cause bizarre hallucinations.
> 
> It can be hard to break cursing as a habit, and many Army men come home and feel bad they have difficulty not swearing the way they did in the Army.
> 
> Shabbat is the gathering at a synagogue or temple for the Judaic Sabbath, on Saturdays. It's vaguely equivalent to Mass.
> 
> Teaser:
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> “Taken by Loki too. Turned somehow. Barton tried to kill me.”  
> “No he didn’t. You want to know how I know? You’re alive. We’ll be in touch.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy organizes, paces, goes to the gym to work off some energy, has an episode and gets cuddles from Steve.
> 
> Steve goes to church, learns what shellshock looks like on Darcy, insists on helping, and gets given a mission.
> 
> Clint notes some things that may be useful later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Fest! To quadrad, Sergeant_Disaster, Reesachan (Clymenestra), ValkyriePhoenix, hafizatulsufiahyaacob, Dances_With_Vulcans, pianobookworm, halfelf87, BloodElf, Maedae84, Crystallea1321, t_shauna, Pen37, biblioworm, rosiedeplume, UltraCute, Joey99, iwanttoreadmore, HighKeyCapFanLowKeyHYDRAAgent, SionnachOiche3, Notashamed, Matlida_Nicki, Shadows_of_Shemai, Selene_Aduial, mouseymightymarvellous, Valkyriefromunderland, SerialObsessor (DlStar71), and the 15 new kudo-ers.
> 
>  
> 
> Please note this is another long weekend, I have stuff on Friday and won't be posting. We resume on Monday.

The next day, Steve showered, got dressed up, and as he left for Mass, Darcy couldn’t help but think some very sinful thoughts.  Seriously, a hot man in a suit was sexy as all hell, who knew?  Dragging her mind from the gutter, she dove back into work.  Morita had hit dead ends, and she hooked him up with Red, and added that the wipe chair and cryo tube would both need serious juice, so they should check power usages.  She authorized a financial leak to the IRS from her agent inside AIM, just to slow them down with an audit while a better response could be built because the project, while dangerous, made not a single fucking bit of sense, ordered infiltration on a senator, and Treasurer to get friendly with a known double agent and work on getting the codes they used to hold Bucky if he got recalcitrant with them.  Treasurer had come highly recommended as an agent by one of Peggy’s recruits, so she trusted he or she would get the job done.

She double checked Jane’s caffeine intake, put a mid-morning granola nut bar in her hand to let the automatic feeding happen, and paced.  She was no closer to Bucky, no closer to the Squids, and she was sort of going insane.

When Steve came back, happy and relaxed, she almost regretted not going with him.  But religion had never been her thing.  Judo was her thing.  After making sure he’d be ok with her going out, she called the concierge, changed into the workout sweats she liked best and went downstairs to catch her cab.

She beat the crap out of some heavy bags and cursed the lack of same day openings at the closest dojo that taught judo.  She needed an opponent.  The only other guys in the gym were an older dude and his skinny… son, maybe?  The old guy was teaching the kid to box.  That wasn’t going to go anywhere, ever, that kid had the wrong body.  Now judo?  That kid could learn to rock the judo moves.

“Hey!  Mind if I show him a few tricks?” she called.

“And you are, miss?”

“Lewis, I’m a third dan, third degree judo black belt, as of a month ago when I got tested up.  I don’t think your boy’s gonna be much of a boxer, but I like how he moves, he’d be good at tossing around bullies and jerks three times his size.  That’s a judo thing, not a boxing thing.”

“I’m Ben, this is Peter.  And what you teach better be just for the bullies.”

“Psht, obviously, rule one is you never use it unless you are protecting yourself or someone else.  It has built in safeties; I was competing in all-state the first time I won a match I started.  Sixteen the first time I really hurt anybody in a fight, and that was rage and softball pitching, not judo.  Like any strength, you have to respect it, lose the respect, lose the strength.  What’d’ya say, Pete?”

“I just want to make Flash Thompson stop hurting me.”

“School bully?” she guessed.  The flush told her everything.  “He like getting you by the shirt?  Like this?”  She grabbed his tee shirt and tugged gently, and Peter flinched, telling Darcy more than she thought even Ben knew.  “Put your hands on my wrist, feel for the bones with your thumbs, yeah between them, good, now press, like it’s the last lap in Mario Cart and you can win but you need to drop the blue shell.”  He did and her hand spasmed and his shirt slipped free of lax fingers.  “Good.  Now push out and away.”  Her arm flew behind her and only trained balance kept her on her feet.  “Then, when he’s off balance, in that one moment after you pushed, you book it.”

“What?  I thought I was going to learn how to throw down.”

“Kid, unless you are in it for the trophies, the point is to knock the other guy off balance so you can run for help or an area where he won’t fight you.”

“That’s lame.  I bet you can’t even fight.”

“Peter!”

“No, Ben, kid has an opinion.  He’s wrong, but it’s his right to freely make an idiot of himself, as per the First Amendment of the Constitution.  Now, that means I also have the right to prove Pete’s making an idiot of himself.  See that bag, the big one, six feet tall, two feet wide?  Filled with sand, at about 90 pounds a cubic foot, so it weighs, what, little under one thousand seven hundred?”

“1,696, and change,” Pete said.  He followed her as she went to touch it lightly with outstretched fingers.

“My boyfriend could knock it off its chain, he likes that trick, irritated the supply officer of our unit to no end.  But that’s brute, nothing but throwing an unstoppable force at something.  You really wanted to see proficiency, you looked at our Comms officer, his trick was splitting the bag.  Bout my height, skinny, but he’d put a crack in the canvas he had to patch with duck tape.  Impressive, huh?”

“Yeah, your boyfriend was in the Army?”

“So was I.”  Without looking at the bag she tossed a side kick at it, and a flash of a kid behind glass hit her eyes.  The next thing she knew, the owner of the gym was beside her, talking her down.  Peter was staring at the growing pile of sand beside her and the hole punched in the bag at gut height.

“Ma’am, what was your rank?” asked the gym owner.

“Lieu… lieutenant.  I’m a lieutenant.”

“Where’d you serve?”

“Can’t tell.  Can’t ever tell.”

“Oh, damn, that kind.  It was hell, weren’t it.”

“Hell doesn’t have innocent kids locked up like animals.  I don’t know if there’s a word for what that was.  I’ll pay for the bag.”

“You’re paying for enough.  We close at 7:30, come back then and you can break anything you want in here.”

“Can I bring my Captain?  He just got back.”

“Yeah, Ma’am, you bring your whole squad if you want.  Anything else?”

“Get that kid a recommendation to a martial arts class, judo, aikido, karate, that Brazilian dance stuff, something built for him, and you use the card on my file to pay for a month.”

“Will do Ma’am.”  He shot her a salute as she stood, and she reached out and fixed it, then returned it.

She took a cab back and curled up in bed hugging a pillow.

<^>

Steve saw Darcy walk blankly into their room and shut the door.  He looked at Jane, and the scientist shook her head.

“She had an episode, and feels guilty about it, and there is no logic that will bring her around to understanding it’s not her fault.  I’ve never gotten her to come out of it, she’s shot until dinner.  Won’t even eat lunch.”

“But… Darcy would never hurt someone on purpose.  She’s a good person.”

“She’s a person in a lot of pain.  She is living in emotion-land right now, and everything hurts and it feels like it’s never going to stop.  That’s how she describes it after.  What’s worse is, even after she gets up again, I never can convince her that the pain isn’t a punishment for having an episode.”

“It’s not right.”  Steve went to the closed door.

“I know, but I don’t know how to help her or fix it.  I’m not sure it can be fixed.  I had to accept I can’t take away her pain, you might have to too.”

“I can accept that, I will never accept that she has to be alone in that pain, Doctor Foster.”  He went in and closed the door on a stunned Jane.

“Angel?”

“Go ‘way.”

“No.  Look, I won’t touch you without permission, or even sit on the bed, but I’m not leaving you alone.  You and Bucky, when we were facing the Skull for the first time, and the beam snapped and I said go, what did you say?”

“Never, not without you.”  She was still talking into the pillow.

“That place,” he spat the word, “was nothing but pain for you two.  I know that.  And it was burning around us like the fires of Hell, and you still wouldn’t leave, because that would mean I was there, alone, in a place of pain and punishment.  So, no, I will not go.  Not without you.”

“You didn’t deserve the punishment!” she snapped, sitting up to glare at him with red eyes.

“You don’t either.  What do you need?” he made his question an order.

For a long moment he thought she wasn’t going to answer him.  Stubborn fire lit her eyes.

“Ice cream from the mini fridge and snuggles.”

“On it Angel.  I love you, you know that, right?”

“Yes, or you wouldn’t hound me into taking help.  Thanks Steve.”

He returned with three little things of Hagan Das, and the iPod she’d given him and cued up a song he’d found earlier.  It was shaky recording, the singer obviously a talented amateur and no more but he loved it, because he’d realized partway in it was Darcy singing.  He curled around her with one bud in her ear and one in his as she sang of never being alone.

Darcy snuffled into her ice-cream.  “God I sounded horrible.”

“It’s my favorite song, Angel.  Because you’re right, whatever we faced, we faced it together.  Never alone.”

“Go to a gym with me later?  The guy said we could wreck the bags if we need to.”

“Sure thing, Angel.  Can I trade you this strawberry for the cookie-dough?”

They went to the gym that night, tested each other’s styles against one another, broke a few bags, and went back to the hotel to shower.  And, they did save some water, even if the shower lasted longer than normal.

It became routine, in the mornings, Darcy worked with the resistance or with Jane, Steve drew and caught up on what he’d missed in Darcy’s lessons, courtesy of a StarkPad and hotel wireless.  At lunch, they’d go try some new food, sometimes detour to an attraction, and then in the evenings, they’d hit the gym.  Darcy warned they were getting predictable, and sure enough on the fourth trip to the gym, Fury walked in as Darcy was waiting in the corner for Steve to re-hang the bag they were demolishing.

“Trouble sleeping?”

“I know I’m 94, but that doesn’t mean I go to bed at 8, Sir.”

“Then you should be out, celebrating.  Seeing the world.  Sort of thought Lieu would have had you in Paris by now.”

Steve and Darcy had seen Paris, it had been burning, neither wanted to go back.  He didn’t tell Fury that.  Instead, he used all the assumptions he knew people held as a shield.  “When I went under, the world was at war. I wake up, they say we won. They didn't say what we lost.”

“We've made some mistakes along the way. Some, very recently.”  Steve heard Darcy huff, but he knew she’d be in complete shadow, near silent to any but him.

“Are you here with a mission,” he paused, long enough for Fury to catch it, “Sir?”

“I am.”  So Fury could play terse.  He’d never beat Phillips and Phillips had never scared Steve.

“Trying to get me back in the world?”

“Trying to save it.”  He pulled out a file to show to Steve.  Steve didn’t take it; he knew what was in it.

“The Cube, Hydra's secret weapon.”  He scoffed.  “You’re an idiot… Sir.”

“ _Howard Stark_ fished that out of the goddamn ocean when he was looking for _you_. He thought what we think; that the Tesseract could be the key to unlimited sustainable energy. That's something the world sorely needs.”

“I second the Captain’s opinion,” Darcy said, stepping into the light by the bags, arms crossed sternly.  “You are an idiot, possibly even a moron.  So was Howard if he seriously thought that dealing with that _thing_ for any reason was anything but a giant mistake.  Never get genius and infallibility confused, Nick.  I’ll assume it was stolen, since I know our cephalopod buddies would never waste it, and I also know they have been pretty interested in it before.  Wipe out a village interested.”

“Who took it?” Steve asked.

“He's called Loki. He's not from around here. There's a lot we'll have to bring you up to speed on if you're in. The world has gotten even stranger than you already know.”

Steve and Darcy shared a look.  Thor had told her about his brother, his Dad, a lot of stuff.  So had Fandral, although he saw things Thor hadn’t.  Between Darcy and Jane, Steve was pretty clear on the whole Asgard political feces and fan collision.

“At this point, I doubt anything would surprise me.”

“Ten bucks says you're wrong. There's a debriefing packet waiting for you at your hotel. Is there anything you can tell us about the Tesseract that we ought to know?”

“Yeah, there is.”  Steve frowned at the older man.  “You should have left it in the _fucking_ ocean.”  Darcy laid a hand on his arm, holding him back with a light touch.

“Barton and Selvig?” she asked him.

Fury startled.  “Taken by Loki too.  Turned somehow.  Barton tried to kill me.”

“No he didn’t.  You want to know how I know?  You’re alive.  We’ll be in touch.”

<^>

In a barren tunnel, Clint looked up at Loki, seeing his blue eyes spark with an energy he couldn’t name.  The scepter controlled him, but not strongly, he’d been forced to preserve Loki’s life, but not to take the Director’s, only to shoot, not kill.  Clint suspected his own eyes were now a touch too blue, as Selvig’s and Loki’s were.

“Tell me of this realm’s greatest threats to my dominion.”

“The Lieu, the Black Widow, the Avengers Initiative.  In that order.  The Avengers are not yet a team, but if they form, they have the power to stop you.  The Black Widow will take this personally, she’s a spy and a killer and I gave her my trust years ago, and she has never stopped thinking she owed me for assuming she was capable of basic human decency.  The Lieu, nobody knows about the Lieu.  Assumed female, been preventing world domination for seven decades, saved countless lives, and has countless more, loyal, skilled, and ready to fight at a single command.  Killed the last man who actually used that,” he said, pointing to the case.

“I understand.  Take the Siedmadr and get him what is needed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Throw down- fight.  
> Lame- uncool.
> 
> Notes:  
> Many people find comfort and relaxation in religion, Steve is one. Other people prefer more secular coping mechanisms, as Darcy does, neither is better or worse. However it can be not as satisfying for a good martial artist to practice sans-sparring partner, especially if the goal was working off steam. 
> 
> Peter Parker canonically has a horrible build for boxing, a type of fighting commonly taught to boys in New York, as it is seen as more masculine and odds are Ben Parker knew how already, thus cutting out the paying for a teacher. He's pre-powers here.
> 
> The First Amendment covers all forms of free speech and expression, but as many do not realize, only prevents the government from saying you legally can't say a thing, not other individuals proving you're wrong.
> 
> Duct tape was around in WWII, used for sealing ammunition boxes at first although it became a go-to for many things, on the recommendation of Vesta Stoudt, an ordnance-factory worker who did initial testing herself before writing the president. The end product was colored in army-standard matte olive drab, and nicknamed "duck tape" by the soldiers.
> 
> Putting a hole in a heavy bag is not easy, and normally Darcy could not, she could split it, that's a skill most dans have, but the flashback gave her an adrenaline boost and threw her strength upper limit away.
> 
> A soldier who can't tell where they served is normally Spec Ops, specializing in unrecognized acts that push the edge of acceptable warfare, and generally have the worst post-service psych issues, in part because they CAN'T talk about it.
> 
> A proper military salute is actually a little harder to do than most people think, fixing an incorrect salute before returning it is more polite than letting someone do it wrong.
> 
> Post Traumatic Stress Disorder can result in the symptoms Jane lists. The majority of people would not be able to get someone in Darcy's situation further than Jane has, Steve gets farther because he knows what it was like and how to punch her buttons. This is not Jane being a bad friend, this is Steve being a way better choice to snap Darcy out.
> 
> The song will be posted in an auxiliary work.
> 
> Some lines taken from The Avengers.
> 
> Teaser:
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> “Understood. God, Steve, can you imagine a General keeping his stars after attacking a college? Never would have flown when we were Army.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy, Jane and Steve arrive on the Helicarrier, much fan-boy/girl-ing is tolerated, and Jane helps them find Loki.
> 
> Steve helps take down Loki, meets Tony Stark, discovered the world is still pretty small, and takes joy in not taking Tony's bait.
> 
> Tony is massively confused by all this crap and very worried about his possibly not dead parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Fest! To Valkyriefromunderland, Snowdove30, BloodElf, quadrad, Shadows_of_Shemai, halfelf87, Musichowler, Crystallea1321, ElisaC, tigrislilium, Notashamed, Joey99, SionnachOiche3, Dances_With_Vulcans, iwanttoreadmore, Mirabitur, Matlida_Nicki, and the 13 new kudo-ers.
> 
> Please Note: This is where canon and fic collide, so there will be lines ripped straight from the movies, whole chunks of dialogue for the entire Invasion Arc, but some altered or given different context. Also this is the beginning of where canon defenestration (being thrown out a window) starts being a thing. By the end of the Invasion Arc, canon will be in tatters and will not matter much at all plot-wise.

Darcy wasn’t surprised when Coulson was the one to pick them up the next morning.  Coulson seemed more surprised than he should have been Jane was standing with them.

“She’s a civilian.”

“She knows more about Dark Energy than anyone on the planet who isn’t mind controlled,” Darcy said with steel in her voice.  “She’s been tracking ancient Asgardian power remnants for a year, give her an active source and she’s bound to get there faster.  Jane is an invaluable resource, and you are _lucky_ she cleared her schedule.”

The plane ride was awkward, Coulson trying not to fan-boy all over Steve as Steve and Darcy looked over Jane’s shoulders at the screen with footage from Harlem and the Culver attack.

“So this Doctor Banner was trying to replicate the serum that was used on me?" 

“A lot of people were,” Coulson told him.  “You were the world's first superhero. Banner thought gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking Erskine's original formula.”

“Moron,” Darcy said grumpily.  “Steve is only moderately sane because of friendly intervention from an outside source that can’t be duplicated.  I’m surprised he didn’t get body integrity identity disorder from going skinny to buff in 3.5 seconds.  That stuff is supes unpredictable, did he even do lab testing?”

“Darcy, Doctor Banner is a leader in gamma energy manipulation, he’s a genius,” Jane scolded.  “Although, maybe the loss of self-identity and possible intelligence drop could come from something similar, amputation of powers, not limbs… he’s still not a moron, his anti-electron collisions papers were some of the best I’ve read.” Jane looked up to see them staring at her.  “What?  I’m an astrophysicist, gamma radiation is really only naturally present in the hearts of stars, there’s some overlap.”

“So, Steve, me, Hulk if need be, who else got the invite?” Darcy asked to draw attention away from an embarrassed Jane.

“Stark, maybe, he’s….”

“Annoying, egotistical, unpredictable and somehow still somewhat charming?” Steve guessed.

“I wasn’t going to be so polite, but yes.”  Coulson sighed.  “And we pulled Romanoff to go get Banner, they’ll meet us at the carrier.”

“Whoa, hold up, you sent a woman trained from age four to be a sneaky liar and backstabber to go get a man with some understandable paranoia and problems with authority?  Level, Sam-I-am, are you crazy?  Because as someone who has been institutionalized, I feel I should get to know who the other loons are.”

“With Barton compromised and the entire Pegasus site demolished, we had staffing issues.  I could have sent her to Stark.”

“Ok, right call.  Gear?  I don’t routinely walk around with my Super Woman outfit on under my shirts.”

“We have that covered.  Captain Rogers, we've made some modifications to the uniform. I had a little design input." 

“The uniform? Aren't the stars and stripes a little... old-fashioned?”

“With everything that's happening, the things that are about to come to light, people might just need a little old-fashioned.”

“He’s right Steve, you’re an icon.  Like King Arthur returning in Britain’s most desperate hour.  I’m a shadow, though, a ghost, I hope you took that into account for mine.”

“Fury handled yours, I think you’ll like it.”

They landed and Natalia met them and ribbed Coulson about his fan-crush while Jane went to fan-girl at a rumpled man Darcy recognized from the dossiers.  Mostly Darcy just scanned the deck, gawking like a tourist.  She went up when Jane waved and Steve followed.

“Doctor Banner,” Steve said when Jane got tripped on introductions.  “Word is you can find the cube.”

“Is that the only word on me?” the man replied a bit self-deprecating and a bit sarcastic.  Darcy liked it. 

“Only word I care about.  I throw a mean game of Frisbee; I’d take it as a favor if that’s the only word you cared about.”

“I care about one other thing," Darcy said.  "Doctor Ross, is she ok?”

“Betty?”

“Yeah, she was a good teacher, and she’s AWOL since the guy attacked the school.  Do you know… is she….”

“She’s fine, in hiding like I was, only better at it.  She has to be, the General is still out there.”

“HE STILL HAS HIS RANK?  Oh my god.”

“His word against the big guy’s bellowing.  Betty went under, to stay safe.”

“Understood. God, Steve, can you imagine a General keeping his stars after attacking a college? Never would have flown when we were Army.”

“Because you or Buck or I would have put a boot so far up his ass he tasted shoe polish, Angel.  Guess you were right about not taking your eyes off of anybody.”

Darcy huffed and went back to gawking.  She pegged 37 security cameras and 12 hidden guards before Nat joined them.

“Everyone, you might want to step inside in a minute. It's going to get a little hard to breathe.” 

“Is this a submarine?” Steve asked.

“Really? They want me submerged in a pressurized metal container?” Banner laughed.

“No, think up, not down,” Darcy said.  “The planes would never survive open deck under the weight of the ocean.  And remember," she pointed sternly at Steve, "you already used your one free pass crashing a plane carrier.”

Steve nodded as turbines that looked like odd VTOL engines rose up.

“Oh, no, this is much worse!” Doctor Banner said as Steve and Darcy walked into the busy bridge.

“I get my ten bucks yet?” Fury asked from his place on the bridge.

“I already crashed a flying carrier.  Sorry,” Steve said, not looking at all sorry.

“Ok, Jane, do you want to do the thing where you say words we don’t understand now, or should I go ahead and cliff note it?”  Jane’s phone rang before she could answer Darcy.

“Wow, I have great reception here.  You go on, it’s Red.”

“Ok, so, summary, Jane used her knowledge of Asgardian energy signatures to make an algorithm to track recent usages.  Red snagged us some satellites with free time to do scans, this is probably the result.”

“Snagged a satellite?” Banner asked incredulously.

“No, don’t be silly, _one_ would never give us the right coverage.  _Satellites_ , plural.  Jane what we got?”  Jane was plugging her phone into a large screen on the runway bit.

“Map, and video footage.”  Sure enough up popped a man in armor, changing into formal wear, minus actually stripping and redressing.  The map was familiar too, somehow.

“Aw, I _liked_ Stuttgart, very good food,” Steve complained.  “So, I hear we have suits?”

<^>

As the cloaked jet dropped Darcy off and circled around, Steve watched in horror at the monitor as the madman corralled and cowed the civilians.  His speech made Steve a little sick, but then a man stood, tall and brave despite his wrinkles and his tremor caught hands.

“Not to men like you.”

“Ah, there are no men like me.”

“There are always men like you.”

Steve saw the anger flash bright in Loki’s blue eyes and dispensed with the line, dropping from the door just in time for the blast to hit his shield and not the man.  “You know, the last time I was in Germany, and saw a man, standing above everybody else, and we ended up disagreeing.”  He paused to look around him where civilians were pointing and taking pictures and videos with phones.  He was just as much a dancing monkey as ever, but he needed to be, more than any other time, he needed to give out hope.  “You’ll notice I’m still here, and he’s not.”

“The soldier,” Loki sneered.  “A man… out of time.”

“I’m not the one out of time,” Steve snarled, watching as a shadow flickered into position.  Nat de-cloaked the jet behind him as planned.

“Loki, drop the weapon and stand down,” she announced over the intercom.  Loki fired his spear thing over Steve’s head, and it was hard not to check if Nat had dodged, but Steve stepped up, grabbing attention once more as panicking civilians made it hard to see what he was looking for.  He blocked another shot, took a punch that flipped him and as he was standing, he felt the spear on his head.

“Kneel,” Loki hissed at him.

“Not today,” Steve said, shoving the spear aside.  “Tomorrow doesn’t look good either.”  He thought he was going to have to hit the guy when a loud blast of music hit him from behind.  Loki glanced up, distracted, but Steve kept his eyes focused behind Loki.  He did make a mental note to ask who the artist was, because that was some good rock there, and then Iron Man landed beside and a touch in front of him in his probably trademarked pose, standing with a whir of machinery.

“Nice of you to join us, Iron Man, if you wouldn’t mind, can you do me a favor?  Just wait a second.”

“What for?” the suited man said as he drew aim and the repulsor on his hand began to glow and whirr, but seconds before he could fire, Loki crumpled to the ground.

“I promised her first shot,” Steve explained as Darcy blew on her taser like a movie gunslinger and tucked it in the pocketed belt of her blue jumpsuit that showed more of her muscle and curve than her normal looks ever did.  The wing flash patch of the Commandoes was in red on her left shoulder, but other than that and her skin, she was a spot of night.

“Cap, can you carry this, I don’t have super-strength,” she said, nudging the crumpled alien godling with a foot.  Steve scooped him up over a shoulder with an ‘oof’.

“This guy is heavy for his size.”

“My other option was Stark, now into the jet, chop chop.”

“I feel I should be insulted by that,” Stark said to nobody in particular.

“Go thank the man who stood up, will ya, since I’m doing the heavy lifting?”

“On it Cap.”  She went to shake his hand and talk with him a bit before rejoining them in the jet, handcuffing all four limp Asgardian limbs to the chair.  Looking up she smiled at him.  “So you know, the man that stood, that was Colonel Göttingen, he was about to be executed for treason against the Reich when news hit the prison camp that Hitler had died.  He wanted me to tell you, he knelt once before and regretted it, so he will never kneel again.”

“Didn’t we stop to help a Frau Göttingen give birth near here?”

“I told him to tell Lotti and baby Stefan hello.”

“Small world.”  He looked at Stark as the plane lifted off.  “Really tiny, actually.”

<^>

Tony did not know what to make of Darcy Lewis, or Loki, or even Captain America.  He’d heard so many stories, he felt like he knew the man, but as he poked around looking for chinks in the perfect soldier’s armor, he didn’t find who he thought he was looking at.  No barb scored a hit, it was like the guy didn’t have a dark side, which set all kinds of alarms off in Tony’s head.  Even teasing him about his age got very little response.

“Pilates?”

“It's like calisthenics. You might have missed a couple things, you know, doing time as a Capsicle.”

“I know what it is and it’s nothing like calisthenics, Tony.  I’m just confused why you think I do Pilates.  This is not the build of a guy who does Pilates.”

“Oh, too good for modern techniques?”

“Good lord, if it’s even possible you are worse than Howard,” Lewis groaned.

“Leave my Dad out of this Short Stack.”

“Hard, when he’s dodging my emails and I’m really freaking pissed at him, but sure, Ix-Nay on the Oward-Hay.”

“How can a dead man dodge emails?”

“Speaking hypothetically.... If he faked his death and that of his wife so the former friend slash notorious assassin sent to kill him would get a pat on the head not a lash to the back, and he could help organize against the forces set on destroying him?  Hypothetically, of course, anything else would be crazy.”

“WHAT?”

A crack of thunder woke their prisoner, and he looked frightened, Rogers must have seen it too.

“What's the matter, scared of a little lightning?” the patriotic enigma asked as Lewis bracketed the bleary Norse god with her arms and stared at his face.  Which looked a little insane but gave him a great view of her ass.

“I'm not overly fond of what follows...” Loki grit out with a grimace.

A thump sounded on the roof.  Of the speeding plane.  At an altitude so high birds didn’t fly here.

Not good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Supes- slang shortening of super.  
> Sam-I-am- a character from the children's book "Green Eggs and Ham" and another way of teasing Coulson about the S.A.M. nickname.  
> Frisbee- a discus-style toy often made of plastic and thrown like Steve uses his shield at range.  
> Stars- In this case the stars on a General's epaulet that show his rank.  
> AWOL- Absent With Out Leave, missing.  
> VTOL- Vertical Take Off and Landing.  
> Ix-Nay and Oward-Hay- Pig Latin code translating to nix and Howard. Nix means no, or no talking.
> 
> Notes:  
> Body integrity identity disorder is a condition where an individual with an able body does not feel right with it, even experiencing disphoria when asked to use a limb they feel should be missing, amputated or paralyzed. While this does not exactly match what I would expect to see from someone who underwent massive physical change so quickly, it is the closest disphoric body identity disorder, most have to do with feeling flawed, not missing old flaws. Bruce's dissociation of the Hulk could be seen as a form of this, pushing unwanted parts of him into Hulk and then forcing a big split between the two states, even developing two personalities.
> 
> Darcy and Phil have a point. Icons and symbols play a big role in human minds, and the First Superhero, Captain America, Sentinel of Liberty, is a really potent icon to call on when things get crazy.
> 
> Steve and Bruce both downplay their powers, Bruce from shame and Steve from modesty and not liking some of the propaganda. One is healthy and good in small doses, the other generally leads to astounding anger management issues.
> 
> Water pressure under the ocean is a lot heavier than many people think. Those planes would not survive dipping under the photic zone, there are fish that swim at standard Sub float depths that react to open air like humans do to the vacuum of space, to give you some perspective.
> 
> You may notice some variation in when I use phonetic accent spelling, this is based on region and heaviness of accent. Kenneth Tigar, who played this man, had an accent in this scene, but it was quite light and I'm not sure I could do it justice. Additionally I named the character after the German University where Tigar spent a year. Also, because I think it's cool, Tigar has a BA and Ph.D. in German literature from Harvard and is so fluent he translates plays when not acting.
> 
> Flash patches were a WWII slang term in the UK's Armed Forces for the Tactical Recognition Flash, a unit designation patch. There's also an American term, but it's not as catchy, so I'm saying the Howlies picked up flash patch from Monty. In WWII there was no 107th infantry, so I'm stealing the white wing symbol from Cap's helmet (an approved location) and Bucky's sleeve as the Howlie patch. Wearing it on the left arm indicates active service, on the right it means veteran.
> 
> There are actually stories of Army medics on the march into Germany stopping to help with illness, injury and yeah, births, in areas depleted of doctors who were assigned to German troops or the camps to study the prisoners. As the son of a nurse, Steve probably would have made his men halt to assist whatever midwife was around, and maybe even gotten aid from another soldier, since they never said if the Howlies had a medic. Stefan is the Germanic form of Steven.
> 
> Pilates and calisthenics have very little in common aside from repetition focus. Calisthenics is all high-intensity in pace or difficulty, aerobic, uses no equipment, and is designed to build large motion strength and stamina (jumping jacks, push-ups, etc.). Pilates is low-intensity in pace, rarely is aerobic, often uses equipment, and focuses on core strength, flexibility, and balance. It also generally results in a slim muscular structure, more like Sam Wilson's lean form, than Steve's Dorito torso.
> 
>  
> 
> Teaser:
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> “Is it a little weird he has a nickname for Lewis?” Banner asked as Fury walked off. “He doesn’t seem the type.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy handles diplomatic relations, negotiations and Nat being a menace.
> 
> Steve gets a good look at the Scientists Three and tells them the truth.
> 
> Thor reconsiders his actions and tries to see the things happening before him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Fest! To Snowdove30, quadrad, iwanttoreadmore, Valkyriefromunderland, Notashamed, ValkyriePhoenix, pianobookworm, Musichowler, Shadows_of_Shemai, phoenix_173, tigrislilium, racecz5, scarlettsoldier, merrysoul, SionnachOiche3, SoraSings, Joey99, halfelf87, AliceMadisonParker, chocolatepureblood, and the 18 new kudo-ers.
> 
> As a warning, my school schedule is heating up, as mid-terms fast approach, and I may cut back on my usual daily schedule. I will try to post as often as I can, but honestly, I just wrote 2 pages of critique of "Purity and Danger" by Mary Douglas into the newest chapter and had to cut/paste it into the correct document. I'm a mess.

Darcy heard the thump and stood up, calling forward to Nat.  “Open the door, we have company.”

Thor hopped down onto the ramp.  “Lady Darcy, my Little Lightning Sister!” he cried, his smile very much like a happy puppy, and she tackle-hugged him, then pushed back and squinted at him.

“Okay, what the Helheim happened to ‘I give you my word, I will return for you’ you big jerk!  I warned you, itty bitty pieces.  Hurled into the sun.  I was very clear.  I used small words.  Where did you get the idea ghosting Jane for a year was ok, dude?”

“The Bifrost was destroyed, in my conflict with my brother.  Has Jane fared… well?”

“Decently.  She's upset you left for so long.  You better make this right, or the next time I see you, I go straight to the death bits, brother or no brother.”

“I understand your terms.  What has happened to my brother?”

“He took some of mine, and the Tesseract, I tased him.  Hard.”

“Ah,” Thor said with a sympathetic wince.  “I came to take him to face justice for his crimes.”

“Soon as he hands over my people, sure, and take the stupid evil cube, too.”

“Seconded on the ‘put that thing back where it came from’ motion,” Steve said, raising a hand.

“Uh, anyone want to tell me what’s going on?” Tony asked.

“Oh, yeah, introductions, guys, this is Thor, he’s from Asgard, is my adopted older brother, and has a magic hammer.  First one to make a Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog hammer joke gets tased in his own hammer, got it?”  Steve closed his mouth in a pout and Tony looked at him like he’d seen a freaking unicorn.  “Thor, the dude in the armor is Tony Stark, called Iron Man, a defender of Earth and he likes to break physics for funsies, from what I hear.  Take nothing he says that seriously, it’s how we dealt with… you know what, let’s skip that story.  Next to him is Steve Rogers, I think I mentioned him?”

“He yet lives?”

“Everyone had that response, big guy.”

“And the other, your Bucky Barnes?”

“Yes, what color are Loki’s eyes?”  It was a clumsy diversion and she knew it.

“Green, as the grass serpents of Vanaheim.  You dodge me, Sister.”

“For a good reason,” Nat said as she left the cockpit on auto.  “He saved me.  It… cost him.  I’m Natasha.”

“Greetings Lady Natasha, Steven, Tony.  It is good to meet my sister’s companions.”

“That’s great, Steve, you have perfect recall, what color were Loki’s eyes?”

“Blue.  Bright, saturated blue, like your belt the first time.  But shining, it was weird.”

“We have a problem, then.  Loki here has some freaky heterochromia going on, back and forth.  Just a guess, but since Thor said green, I’m assuming the blue is foreign.  Maybe the taser knocked it loose?”

“What should we then do?” Thor asked.

“Hit him again.  Harder,” Natasha said.

“Nat!  Have you lost your mind Pauk?  This is not an Island and that is not Gilligan,” Darcy said, pointing at Loki.  "Note the lack of coconuts."

“It’s in the manual, see?”  She passed over a heavily annotated book.

“Nat… this says, and I’m quoting, "Agents are to avoid use of percussive maintenance in the field, and under NO circumstance," and they caps'd that no and underlined it three times, "is the solution to a problem ‘use a bigger hammer’ no matter what your senior officer says."  End quote.  Although, wasn’t a bigger hammer the way the alarm-clock trigger super-bomb issue in Epinal got solved?”

“The book always says not to do the fun way.  I like to check them off.  I haven’t tried a bigger hammer. But it doesn’t need to be a hammer, there are several amendments covering other blunt objects, bullet calibers, and amperage on shock weapons.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance I get a say?” Loki said, to a resounding shout of no, or nay, in the case of Thor.  Darcy thought about it.  She leaned in again, tracking his eyes.  Blue, green, blue, green, green.

“You can talk, whether or not we agree is something else.”

“Be wary, sister, my brother’s words are oft his most potent weapons.”

“It was a long year you missed, Thor, I grew up, I think I can handle this.  Talk, or I make you squawk, horse-fucker.”

“Oh Norns, you read those?  For the last time it was an alchemical workshop project!”

“Don’t care, I was just insulting you.  Say your piece.”

“Fine.”  Loki glared at her with green eyes.  “Use the taser again.  Please.”

“Why?”

“Blue does not suit me.”

“I don’t care.”

“I will talk, tell you everything.”

Darcy smiled, and she knew it wasn’t a nice smile, it was a mean one, with too many teeth.  “Oh, my dude, you already would have.”

“Without any attempt at tricking you.  I swear upon my seidr.”

“That is a potent oath,” Thor told her.  “He has never sworn such before to my knowing.”

Darcy thought.  About Clint and Eric, enslaved in their minds.  About Bucky, his slowly slipping from his grasp.  She brought up the taser to inspect.  “How do Asgardian bodies react to multiple high amp electric shocks?  I might kill him.”

“I’m not Asgardian,” Loki said simply.

“I thought you two,” Tony gestured at Loki and Thor.

“He is adopted,” Thor admitted.  “But also beloved.  Neither of us knew until my banishment.”

“Ah, hence the mega-bot meltdown fight,” Darcy nodded.

“I owe you a beer for that by the way,” Steve said.  “For helping Darcy when I couldn’t.”

“No, please, I do not care much for Midgardian ales, they do not fire my blood.”

“Oh, sorry.  Same problem here.”

“Steve!  Focus, please.  I do not want to kill him.  I need information first.”

“Just do it, woman,” Loki snapped and his eyes flashed blue again briefly.  “I’d die before I live another sunrise with this thing in my mind.”

Darcy thought of the years of shocks, the fiddling with placement, the first time Bucky forgot his name.  She put the prongs against the exact spot, silently apologized to Bucky, and pressed the button.

<^>

The flight back was mostly quiet after that, for which Steve was thankful.  Stark had been being really annoying.  He’d asked three questions of Thor, made one Shakespeare in the Park joke, and vaguely brought up Darcy’s slip about Howard earlier once.  She’d looked at Natasha, who wiggled a hand and Darcy had told him she would come clean later, and then said something about a pest control company, sang the jingle, and generally acted like he hadn’t asked.  After that, silence.

In the hangar, Thor scooped Loki’s limp form up after Darcy uncuffed him.  With Thor quiet, and Steve and Tony out front being as distracting and flashy as possible, nobody questioned them until Fury met them in the large meeting area of the bridge with Jane and Banner.

"Lady Jane!  I must apologize for my long absence, the Bifrost was lost, but I have returned.  I must tend to my brother, I hope you will forgive me my tardiness and familial preoccupation."

"I understand Thor.  I'd prefer it if this stay was a little longer, or you could give me a way to communicate, but I do understand."

“Thor?  I send you for one Norse god, you bring me two?” Fury asked incredulously.

“Above and beyond, Director,” Darcy said.  “He’ll be useful in interrogation; I’ll need a room.”

“We have a cage ready and waiting.”

“No, no cage, no tech, nothing distinctive.  A bad cop-shop replica set with good soundproofing would be ideal.  And kill the cameras and microphones.  I’m a ghost, remember?”

“Of course,” Fury said awkwardly, as if remembering she didn't answer to him.  He apparently handled awkwardness with introductions.  “Stark, this is Doctor Banner and Ms. Foster.”

“Ahem,” Darcy raised her eyebrows.

“Doctor Foster, who have been working on tracking down the tesseract.”

“It's good to meet you, Doctor Banner. Your work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled. And I'm a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“Dr. Banner is only here to track the cube. I was hoping you might join him.” 

“Let's start with this stick of his,” Steve suggested, holding up the case it had been placed in.  “It may be magical, but it works an awful lot like a Hydra weapon.” 

“I don't know about that,” Fury hedged, “but it is powered by the cube. And I'd like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys.” 

“Monkeys? I do not understand,” Thor said, still holding Loki in his arms.

“I do,” Steve said, and ok, maybe he was a little over excited about knowing something about pop culture that didn’t come from Darcy.  She rolled her eyes at him fondly.  “I’ll fill Thor in later.”

“This way Lieu, Thor.  Romanoff, I’d like you looking at footage we may have of Barton, see if you can confirm it.  I’ll let our scientists settle themselves, and I trust Captain Rogers can handle himself?” Fury said, his single showing eye glaring at Steve.

“Is it a little weird he has a nickname for Lewis?” Banner asked as Fury walked off.  “He doesn’t seem the type.”

“Yeah, but who knows?  He’s a spy, no, he’s THE spy, his secrets have secrets,” Tony said blithely as Jane showed them to the lab.  “By the way, how do you not destroy every set of pants you own?  I’ve looked at the footage, very PG 13.  I do worse at cocktail parties and I’m not tripling my body mass.”

Steve let Tony and Bruce’s banter fade back as he helped Doctor Foster get the spear from the case into a box that was mostly wires, hand welds, and duck tape.

“Did you build that?” Tony asked her.

“Yeah, Darcy helped.  She doesn’t know what a quantum radiation spectrometer is, but she can find everything I need for at least half the price, and she can follow a blueprint.  Best intern I ever hired and no, you may not have her.  Mine.”

“This is pure genius, I mean, they called you crazy and that usually means someone is smarter than your average bear, but this… this is into the realm of mad science.  How are you not my top competitor?”

“I only build for my work.”  She poked at the screen on one side of the box a bit, pulled up another panel of wavy lines on a big glass screen to one side, and made a hmm noise.  “Fury was wrong, this has an internal power source and it’s not linked to the cube.  It’s similar, but not the same.  Class A blue giants and class G yellow stars both look like white dots on a picture of the night sky if you don’t care, but they are way different.”

“So what’s that mean?” Steve asked her.

“I don’t know, but he was way too confident about cube powered devices.  Also, I got dings earlier.”

“Dings?” Tony asked.  “And I was promised an explanation.”

“Are we clear?” Steve asked Doctor Foster.  She grabbed a walkie talkie that was so modified it was more tape than walkie and turned a knob.  Splitting pain hit his ringing ears, and then it was over and the other two men looked horrified and Jane looked embarrassed.

“Sorry, the zapper uses ultra-high frequency sound, turning it on and off will hurt as it passes the top of your limit.  We’re clear now, no bugs.  No promises on cameras though.  Oh, and I cleared Bruce, he’s pretty much recruitment ready.”

“Recruitment for what?” Banner asked, but Steve ignored him.

“This does not leave this room, understand?”  Stark made a zip and lock motion on his mouth and Steve tried to get it over with quickly.  “Lieu isn’t a nickname, it’s a rank, L-I-E-U for Lieutenant, not L-E-W for Lewis.  Darcy and I worked together in World War Two, she saved my life a lot, and she saved Bucky a lot, and we both sort of died.  Only, Bucky was found earlier, and Darcy went with him to help.”

“How?  Ice, serum, a really fantastic plastic surgeon?” Tony waved dramatically, “she looks 24!”

“She is,” Jane said.  “Her brain forms Einstein-Rosen bridges with other minds, swaps them out.”

“So while she was helping Bucky, she found out Hydra was actually serious about the two heads thing and they made a come-back.  Jane has been helping Darcy as much as Darcy helps Jane.  One of the reasons she is so good with Tess readings is she was looking for old Hydra weapons, in hopes that Darcy’s resistance could find a base or two and blow it.  So she has a spacey-wacey detector that goes ding when there’s stuff.”

“You watch Doctor Who?”  Tony sounded scandalized.

“Guys!  On topic, please,” Jane sighed.  “There was a ding, therefore, there was stuff.  Go find it, Steve, you won’t be seen as strange wandering around, just… look amazed.  Tony, from what I can tell, aside from power jolts which I don’t think are something an Asgardian needs, the main purpose is wormhole creation, ripping space, but we hit a wall.  I just don’t know how you’d do that with these readings.”  She slid the screen at him.

“He'd have to heat the cube to a hundred and twenty million Kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier,” Bruce said.  “You can’t do that on Earth, you’d turn bedrock into magma.” 

“Unless Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect.”

“Well, if he could do _that_ , he could achieve heavy ion fusion at any reactor on the planet.  You really think he’d sit on that kind of discovery?” Jane demanded.

“Finally, someone who speaks English!” Tony said, delighted.  Steve remained confused.

“Oh.  Is that what just happened?”  Everyone looked at him.  “I’ll go find the stuff that made the detector go ding.”

<^>

Thor watched his siblings, both adopted, both changed.  He had not seen it happen.  In his reflections this past year, he’d thought often on the places he had gone astray, feeding the bitterness that now filled his brother.  But he knew not where this cold and hard warrior had come from, who wore the form of his Little Lightning Sister.  They danced at words, ever at odds, and however changed, Thor knew he must watch.  This was one thing he could not blindly ignore, as he had much before.  He must see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Ghosting- disappearing from someones life, not responding to communication, acting like you are dead to them.  
> Funsies- on a whim, because it sounds fun.  
> Pauk- Russian for Spider, a Zima nickname for Nat.  
> Percussive maintenance- hitting the thing until it does what you want, see Jane tapping the monitor in Thor 2.  
> Norns- Goddesses of Fate for Asgardians, per comic cannon.  
> Seidr- magical power.  
> Fire my blood- Asgard Slang for getting buzzed or drunk.  
> Cop-shop- Slang for a police precinct.
> 
> Notes:  
> Helheim is Asgardian Hell, so this is like Asgard spanglish swearing.
> 
> "Put that thing back where it came from or so help me..." is a line from Monsters Inc.
> 
> Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog is a three part musical about the trials and tribulations of a wanna-be villain, and features a line where Captain Hammer (Gloriously portrayed by Nathan Fillion) tells Dr. Horrible he's going to take Doc's crush home and show her his hammer, then awkwardly clarifies that by hammer, he means his penis.
> 
> Gilligan's Island was a show about ship-wrecked tourists where sometimes major personality changes could be affected by a coconut falling on someone's head.
> 
> Amperage, the strength of an electric current, is what makes electric shock weapons so effective. Voltage is often confused with this as high voltages can also be deadly, but repeated use of a high amp weapon is also risky if you want your tasee to remain alive.
> 
> Darcy is referencing the part of the Eddas that detail Loki turning into a mare, getting pregnant by a stallion, and carrying Odin's eight legged horse Slepnir to term, and giving birth. With Marvel's desicion that magic and science ar one and the same on Asgard, I'm choosing to believe that was a very imaginative, possibly drunk, uneducated retelling of a genetic manipulation in-utero experiment.
> 
> Ok, so throughout both Thor movies, the only person who ever gets pissed when someone (and there are many of them) drops Jane's title is Darcy. Jane is too busy being a distraught genius, but Darcy is very clear on the DOCTOR Jane Foster point.
> 
> Class A blue giants and class G yellow stars both appear whitish to the naked eye, and even most home telescopes. However, they are way massively different, Class A's being very large and hot, and Class G being what our own sun is.
> 
> "goes ding when there’s stuff." is a line from "Blink" an episode of Doctor Who. In the show it was a Timey-Wimey detector, but Tess mostly handles space, so Jane's detector is a Spacey-Wacey detector.
> 
> Ok, so a hundred and twenty million Kelvin is hotter than the insides of stars that are so hot, their incandescence is out of human visual range, and can only be seen with UV filter scopes. It is a bizzare number that makes no sense to ever use. Also, a coulomb is a measure of one ampere (unit of strength of electric current) per second. A Coulomb barrier makes zero scientific sense in this context. I kept the babble because I liked it, but it's not real science guys.
> 
>  
> 
> Teaser:
> 
>  
> 
> “Doctor Banner, I need help.”  
> Banner was gone.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy argues with a God, yells at Fury, and gives orders.
> 
> Steve helps fix an engine, reaffirms his dread of falling, and revises his opinion of Tony a little.
> 
> Bruce and Hulk experience a new way of being treated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Fest! To quadrad, SerialObsessor (DlStar71), ValkyriePhoenix, Valkyriefromunderland, WaltzingTheFaePaths, Notashamed, pianobookworm, PyraSanada, Shadows_of_Shemai, merrysoul, iwanttoreadmore, space_monkey52, Crystallea1321, BloodElf, halfelf87, Selene_Aduial, Musichowler, Matlida_Nicki, followthecat, SionnachOiche3, Joey99, mouseymightymarvellous, and the 24 new kudo-ers.
> 
> Still in prep-mode for midterms, so again, apologies, but here, have a chapter.
> 
> Some lines taken from The Avengers, some modified.

Darcy had expected some difficulty going lingo a lingo with the God of Lies, maybe even some deflection or stalling, even with Thor’s word that the oath was good.  She hadn’t anticipated paranoia.  Especially paranoia that so closely mirrored her own.  He wasn’t lying, she had sat with Bucky through too many interrogations where he acted as the ‘big stick’ to miss a lie.  He was just telling her he couldn’t tell her.  It was evasion, and it was driven by fear.  She knew she’d be a handful on his side of the table, so his snark and disdain act was understandable if annoying.  Sighing at his latest “I know not where,” she steepled her fingers.

“Ok, this is taking us nowhere.  So let’s change the game.  I’ll trade you one painful truth of mine, for one of equal value of yours.  I’ll say mine, you determine what is closest in pain to it for you, and you share that.  Even-steven, equal trade, no poking at you.  I have to cough up the hard stuff to get anything of interest from you.  Deal?”

“That seems… fair, and possibly entertaining.  As much as anything here can be.”

“Alright.  I fought in a war that began before I was born, died twice, and have been fighting that same enemy even up until last night.  Seventy years of war.  I’m 24.”

“Well that sounds retched, no wonder you're so dogged with your pursuits.  I was stolen as a babe from my birth race as a war prize and raised to hate my own kind, believe them monsters, less even than animals.”

“That sucks, internalized racism must be hard, wouldn't know.  I am so afraid, all the time, of my enemies, that I do not speak their name.  I claim I do not say it to disrespect them, and while that was how it began, my refusal to respect, now it is fear.  I call them by coded words, Calamari, Tess, I even call my allies by code.  My fear dictates my speech in almost every aspect of life.”

“You do not seem a woman afraid of much.  I would have called you fearless.”

“I’m not scared of much," she told him, shrugging.  "I’m certainly not scared of you, that’s why my fear of them is a painful truth.  One you have not paid me back for.”

“I was judging the weight.  My captor held me, broke me, turned me upon myself until I did his bidding as though it were my own.  Call him the Mad Tita….”  He began hyperventilating.

“Thor, rub his back, remind him where he is and that he is safe.”  Darcy waited until Loki regained his composure, but noted he did not pull away from Thor as he had when he woke up.  Bingo, weak spot.  She supposed she should feel bad about doing this to him, but she didn’t.  She didn’t feel much of anything.  “So Mad Hatter broke you.  Torture, I assume, side of brainwashing.  Been there.  Not fun times.  Zero out of ten, would not recommend.  So here’s my unpleasant truth."  She stood to pace a bit, then braced her hands on the table.

"A man I love like life fell off a cliff so tall you couldn’t see the bottom, and I was with him, here,” she tapped a temple.  “He was captured by enemies, his arm amputated and replaced with metal designed to kill him and everyone around him if he disobeyed.  They took his mind from him, and I hid away the parts he wanted protected, to save them, to keep him human and him.  They did this with chemicals and electric shocks, like what I used on you, only it wasn’t the right kind to allow him unconsciousness, it was agony, which I took half of, to keep him sane and safe.  They do this often, and every time I stand between them and him, deny them this man I love, try to keep him whole.  And I.  Am.  Failing.”  She saw the slight wince, the agonized look of someone who knew, and dispassionate for Loki, she twisted the knife a little more.  “And every breath I waste speaking to you in riddles is one I could spend on him.  If I don’t get a damn good reply, I’m not going to.”

“Lady Darcy,” Thor said warningly.

“Seidmadr Eric Selvig has the tesseract, and new knowledge of how it functions and will open a portal for Chitauri warriors in the place most impressive and valuable as a symbol to this world, the home of a warm light for all mankind.  They will invade and I am expected to lead.  If I do not, I will die.  Soon, in moments, the warrior Clint Barton will lead an attack on a flying fortress he will assume I am at, he said it was the safest place in the world to put someone very dangerous.”

Darcy stood and turned off her zapper, so she could safely turn on the communicator.  “Nat we have incoming, Hawk’s coming home to roost and will require percussive maintenance, intercept him, he’ll be headed to where you’d think to put Loki.”  As she reached the door, she turned back to the exhausted god of lies who had just been forcibly made painfully honest.  She felt a pang of regret for doing that, squashed it, and spoke softly.  “Thank you, for your cooperation.  Thor, try not to kill Barton if he gets in here.”

She raced to the lab to reassure herself Jane and Steve were safe only to burst in on everyone snarling at Fury.

“Is that a Squid gun?” she asked, pointing at the thing on the table.  “Looks new.”

“It’s for protection from greater threats, like the one that almost killed you in Puente Antiguo.”  Fury glared with his one uncovered eye.

“Key word, almost.  A lot of things have almost killed me.  I don’t go around with a massively overcompensating stick because of it.  I have a Poli-Sci Master’s degree, and Nuclear Deterrents don’t actually deter much of anything, they usually just make you a really big target that everyone will feel ok about hitting because you were obviously aggressive.  That sucker is a neon sign saying ‘come at me bro’ to the universe.”

“I was just saying that!” Tony said pointing at her.

“Good for you, we have a more pressing issue.”

“Wait just a goddamn minute,” Fury protested.

“No.  If you aren’t an alcoholic, I’d recommend starting, you aren’t my first Colonel who liked yelling while I did the thing anyway.  Wonder where your little spider is?”  She watched him turn to where he obviously thought Nat would be.  “Barton is in-route to attack and retrieve Loki.  Most likely with mercs.  She’s on intercept, Thor is on Loki, I want you to go to where you were planning to put him.  Don’t shoot to kill Barton automatically, electric shock has been shown effective at de-brainwashing, but use your best judgement.”

Fury glared but left, stalking out under a near visible thundercloud of anger.

“Did you just give Fury orders?” Tony asked, gaping at her.

“Yes, I am a horrible soldier.  If you are indeed a better mind than your dad, time to shine.  Figure out what you’d hit on this thing to cripple it.  Go, defend it.  Keep her in the air, Tony.”  She saw him swallow hard before nodding and leaving.  “Alright, Steve, go find Coulson, he has the closest relationship to Barton besides Nat, and when we get Barton’s brain back, he’s going to need treatment and someone he knows.”  Steve left at a jog and she looked at the two remaining scientists.

“I don’t want to be the Other Guy,” Banner told her.

“I will never order a transformation,” she promised him.  “But the evidence suggests you have a certain amount of communication of feelings or concepts, because he only ever attacked viable targets, people who were threats, and he actively shielded Doctor Ross.  So look at the tiny ball of fuck-the-status-quo beside you, and focus on these words: Protect Jane.  Make that a deep understanding that goes to your hind-brain, Jane is not to be hurt.  And if the big dude shows, try to remind him.  Protect Jane.  I am trusting you with her, trusting HIM with her.  Do not disappoint me.”  He looked like he was going to object when she raised a finger at him warningly.

“I’m hardly a princess in a tower, Darcy,” Jane sighed.

“No, you are my best friend.  You have your training, your taser, your guts and now Bruce.  I’ve given you all I can.  And now, I need to fight.  I want my archer back.”

“Go.  We got this.”  Jane picked up the new Hydra gun and god, was it ridiculously huge on her tiny shoulder.  Darcy nodded and moved out.

<^>

Steve found Coulson fairly quickly, it helped that anyone seeing him looking pointed in the right direction.  After the situation was explained, he escorted Coulson to the medical bay and watched in surprise as the older man opened a locker and pulled out a purple pillow-case and a worn teddy-bear.  He automatically moved to help get the case on a spare pillow.

“What is this for?” he asked.

“Trauma, of the non-physical kind.  Barton’s going to feel horrible after this, he’ll need comfort items and familiar things.  It’s not weakness to need that.”  Coulson really looked like he might fight Steve over this, and given the stuttering compliments and everyone knowing how much Captain America inspired him, that was saying something.

“No, it’s not weakness.  It’s a real slick set-up, Phil, wish I’d had it after….  You’re a good man.  I’m a little buzzy, I think I need to go hit some bad guys, where do you think Barton would deploy them?”  The floor shook and an alert sounded.

“Near engine three, to prevent maintenance.  Out the door, left to the end of the hall, right until the second left and then follow the maps on the walls.”

He reached the engine to find Stark blasting a plane out of the sky.  Remembering his comm, he tapped it.  “Iron Man?  How can I help.”

“I need you to open the engine control panel on the far wall and tell me which relays are in overload position.”  He shot another plane as he pushed some debris with his other hand.  “Why won’t these bastards die?”

“Language, Tony.”  He got to the panel, popped it open and looked at the mass of wires and lights.  Maybe he had miscalculated.  Another plane exploded in mid-air.

“Sorry Grandpa.  What's it look like in there?” 

“It seems to run on some sort of electricity!” Steve yelled, frustrated.  He could program a DVR for Christ’s sake, he wasn’t bad at tech, but this was NOT a DVR.

“...well,” Stark said only half-grudgingly, “you're not _wrong_.”

Steve began tracing the lines and trying to remember fixing Mrs. Bahrenburg’s fuse box.  “The relays are intact, I think.  But it’s not exactly a Jeep, I don’t think we can push start it.”

“Yeah, wait, no!  You’re totally wrong, this is great.  I’ll go in and give it a push.”

“That thing gets up to speed and you’ll get shredded!”  Tony replied with more science babble and Steve popped. “Speak English!  I don’t speak Science!”

“See the red lever?  It will slow the rotors enough for me to get out, stand by it and wait for my word.”

Steve thought maybe Tony was a little more insane than he’d thought.  Howard had never been the guy to make the sacrifice play, let another guy crawl over him, which was what his son was preparing to do.  Still, he went to stand by the lever, only to see goons in black toss a grenade at Tony’s back.  He blocked the toss, but it put him on the wrong side of the gap, fighting hand to hand with armored gunmen.  He’d even forgotten his shield.  Debris made a nice substitute throwing weapon, and a not-entirely-dearly departed gunman had thankfully left a rifle not too far away.

It was going great until Steve lost his footing too close to the wrecked and open end of the hall.

“Cap, hit the lever.”  Tony’s voice was so sure, so confident that Steve could do this, it almost hurt him to admit he was hanging by his fingers to metal that could all too easily give way.  Was this how Bucky and Darcy felt?

“I need a minute here,” Steve got out, higher than his voice normally went, taught with fear and memory.

“Lever… Now!”

Steve wrenched his arm out and snagged the lever near it’s hinge and let his body’s weight pull it down.  When the shooter came out of the hallway, he thought he knew how Darcy and Bucky felt, wanting to live and knowing he wouldn’t, his grip slipping from the lever and his body falling back, only to be slammed into the floor as Iron Man shot past him to take out the attacker.

“Let’s not do that again,” Steve said, hauling himself to shaky feet.  "I hate heights."

“Yes, the two seconds from becoming a smoothie was, I’ll admit, not my favorite part of today.”

“Sorry, Tony, I slipped, and….”  Tony stopped him with an armored hand on his shoulder.

“Jarvis is playing me the security footage, I know what happened.”

“It’s my fault,” Steve said and he wasn’t sure if he was talking about Tony or Bucky.

“Fuck that noise, Rogers, you saved my life.  Let’s go.”

"Language, please."

<^>

Bruce wasn’t sure what the stern enigma of a woman that Darcy Lewis was meant, trusting the Other Guy with Jane, until a blast took out the floor beneath them and they dropped into a darkened room.

“Doctor Banner!”  He could hear her calling out, not in hushed fearful tones, in pain, loud, louder in his ears as he fought the change.  “Doctor Banner, I need help.”

Banner was gone.

Hulk looked at the tiny woman.  Jane.  She was talking at him, but she was squeaky, and a hard heavy thing was on her leg.  Maybe she wouldn’t be squeaky without the hard heavy thing.  He moved it and little men went running.  Stupid men, they should help tiny Jane.  Hulk had big smash things hands, not little fix things hands.

“Hulk?”

“Ugh, wha?”

“Big gun by your foot, slide it to me?”

“Shoot Hulk.”

“No, don’t be silly.  Shoot people who shoot Hulk.  Hulk take guns from those bad people, we stay safe.”

“Oh.”  That made sense.  Carefully he slid the bigger gun to her with one finger and sat down.

“Hulk?”  Why would tiny Jane not be quiet?  “Will you be my friend?  It’s just, Darcy is my friend, but Darcy is fighting and I’m scared and I feel alone and I need a friend, and you’re here, and I’ll stop talking now.  Sorry.”

Hulk understood alone.  It was a not good feeling to him, and to puny Banner, it was worse, because he was so small and the world was so big.  The tiny woman was even smaller.  She must feel very not good.

“Hulk here.  Hulk friend.  No alone.”

“Thanks,” she said and leaned her head on his arm.  One bad man tried to shoot them, but tiny Jane’s big gun got him, and Hulk turned the bad gun into a ball to roll on the floor with Jane.  It was fun.  A new not-smashing fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> lingo a lingo- a bad play on the Spanish mano a mano (hand to hand) using lingo (slang for talking) instead.  
> Even-steven- fair, equal.  
> Slick- cool, awesome.  
> Buzzy- hyper or full of adrenaline, easiest to work off with exercise.  
> Push start- pushing a car to help the stalled engine start working.  
> Fuck that noise- nonsense, that's false.
> 
> Notes:  
> Darcy is using a very useful technique to help a trauma survivor open up. I know not all departments do this, but the investigating officer on my case used it and it helped me get them to arrest my attacker, although it did not go to court.
> 
> Internalized racism is when someone learns (as all racism is a learned behavior) to hate their race, even trying to destroy the characteristics that tend to come with that race, and putting down others of their race.
> 
> Thor providing comfort and support is important to Loki being capable of further talking. Honestly, Darcy is pushing way too hard right now, but she is also in pain and has a broken give-a-damn.
> 
> "Keep her in the air" comes from Serenity, the movie extension of Firefly. The full line is "Love keeps her in the air when she oughta fall down." Darcy is validating the #TonyStarkHasAHeart concept, putting a good amount of faith in him.
> 
> Trauma can be treated with cuddly toys, familiar items like pillowcases, and the presence of a safe and trusted person, which is what Phil is preparing. It's not a cure, but it will help him get to functional faster. Many WWII vets are dead now because the time in which they went to war was very disapproving of shellshock that lasted longer than a two week leave or a stay in medical. Phil knows that, he does not know Steve had access to PTSD resources in the war.
> 
> So, I know there is major fandom discourse over Steve's "Language" line in Age of Ultron, but here he says it because he's trying to break the habit and it would be helpful if Tony did not swear. Like a recovering alcoholic should not be invited to a bar, even if they can just order soda.
> 
> Hulk is remarkably kind for someone so often characterized by rage. I'm drawing on more than MCU for my rendition of Hulk, because I really don't think mindless rage beast is as fun as tormented young child (assuming his birth happened with the accident, he's 7 here) who wants the world to stop trying to hurt him.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, now with a Darcy "Totally Just an Intern" Lewis outfit on polyvore: http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=209588296  
>  
> 
> Teaser:
> 
>  
> 
> "No, um, they are dead, like super dead, very much not alive,” Darcy clarified as she dumped her spent casings in her brightly colored galaxy print back pack.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy cleans up in the aftermath of the attack on the helicarrier, and helps rescue Jane.
> 
> Steve helps Darcy with Jane, tells Tony how he matters, and talks to Hulk.
> 
> Natasha has trouble with words, but she knows Clint and Phil will help her, and she decides to pay off a debt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Fest! To quadrad, Snowdove30, mischiefcat, Tracysgate, ValkyriePhoenix, Sergeant_Disaster, Matlida_Nicki, aquadrop25, Dances_With_Vulcans, Shadows_of_Shemai, space_monkey52, BloodElf, Valkyriefromunderland, psyche29, rosiedeplume, Musichowler, UltraCute, halfelf87, Andie97, Beth_Mac, merrysoul, mouseymightymarvellous, chocolatepureblood, SionnachOiche3, Joey99, tigrislilium, SerialObsessor (DlStar71), lovewar66, and the 14 new kudo-ers.
> 
> Also, I have outlined the next 2 chapters and can post them on Monday and Tuesday, but they end this segment of the fic on a touch of cliffhanger and the next installment would need to wait until the following Monday, or I can delay posting the next chapters so you get the sequel fic right after. Up to you guys, vote in the comments!

Darcy jump-fell from an upper level onto the bridge.  It would have been the perfect place to attack from and she made sure her landing was loud, to draw attention to this gap in security.  She had two empty magazines and 34 casings in her belt pockets, smelled strongly of cordite, and she was pretty sure she had blood in her hair.

“Clean up, Aisle 7,” she told the wide eyed Assistant Director.  “I made a mess, but to be fair, they started it.”

“I need a containment crew to upper deck four,” said the woman into a comm.

“No, um, they are dead, like super dead, very much not alive,” Darcy clarified as she dumped her spent casings in her brightly colored galaxy print back pack.  She counted as they clinked together to make sure she had gotten all of them.  Then she turned to the woman who she’d never caught the name of.

“Did you just put 34 spent casings in your back pack?”

“Bubbie Lewis taught me to clean up after myself, but the 34 guys were too big to go in the bag, no matter how good I am at origami.  I’ll help with the blood stains, I keep WD-40 and a liter of coke in here.  By the way, what’s your name?”

“Maria Hill.  How is an intern such a good shot?”

“I wasn’t always an intern,” Darcy said undoing her fighting up-do. “I don’t suppose you got showers on this thing, I think I just found, yeah, that’s skin.  I hate this part, where’s biohazard?”

“I’ll take you, it’s next to medical and I hit my head.”

Darcy scrubbed the bad guy bits and blobs off herself as quickly as she could, dried, re-dressed in her sweat and blood stained battle suit, and finger combed her hair out and braided it quickly.  She met AD Hill in the hall where she noted the lack of extra blood and the gauze square.  “Barton in medical?”

“Containment two, under watch of Romanov and Coulson.”  The AD jerked a thumb and Darcy nodded before trotting off to find her archer.

“Hey, Hawk-ass, how’s the head,” she said into the room with a woozy Clint, a guilty looking Nat and a worried Coulson.

“Been better.  How many…?”

“No,” responded Nat and Darcy together.  They shared a look.  Nat took the conversation.

“Don’t do that, don’t blame yourself.  You were not in control.”

“But I was, sort of.”

“I know,” Darcy said.  “I knew when I asked Fury about you.  You know how?  He was telling me you tried to kill him.  I know you, you are very Yoda on Dagobah about killing, do or do not.”

“There is no try,” he finished with a huff of almost laughter.  “Yeah it was sloppy, almost like…”

“Like he didn’t want you controlled?”  Nat guessed.

“Yes, which is weird from a world conquering megalomaniac.”

“Not if he doesn’t want to actually conquer the world, Clint,” Darcy pointed out.  “Short version, I tased the controls out of his brain and he is just as pissed about this crap as you.  Oh, and Thor is back and those two are so funny, it’s like a golden retriever and a Siamese cat.”

“He wasn’t…?”

“The one pulling the strings?  No, middle manager only, which I think is a contributing factor to his pissy attitude issues.”

“That would explain his dumb-ass plan to get caught.  Who should I be mad at?”

“He can’t tell us.  Literally, I almost got him there and he broke down.  It was ugly.  I’ve code named the threat Mad Hatter, since Mad was the only syllable he got out before going into a really bad episode.  You going to be ok?  I need to check on Jane.”

“Yeah, you tend to your people, Lewis, I got my own.”

Darcy looked at Clint’s ragged bear under an arm, Natasha sitting on the end of the bed with his bare feet in her lap and Coulson in a chair by the Emergency Alert button.  He was going to be ok.

She got to the lab and let out a long and creative stream of dirty language when she saw the giant hole in the floor.

<^>

Steve and Tony got back to the lab to find Darcy swearing harshly at the wreckage of the floor.

“Darcy, Angel, are Jane and Banner… did they….”

“I don’t know.”  He could see the tense line of her jaw, the wet hair braided back sloppily, and he knew she’d been in battle.  Fighting while her friend was somewhere that was supposed to be safe.  He pulled her into his arms and let her stiff body lean on him.

“I hate to interrupt the Lifetime Original Movie moment here, but I have heat signatures, two decks down, one is way too hot to be a normal human,” Tony said from under the visor.  “The other looks injured.”

“Jane,” Darcy breathed.  “I have to get down there.”  She was moving for the hole when Steve stopped her.

“Darcy, you know I’m more than aware of your skill and strength, but I should go secure it while you get a medic.  Remember the videos?  Hulk reacts to fear stimuli, and as much as I love you, you kind of scare _me_ right now.  You just got out of battle, you still smell like cordite, and your clothes are covered in blood I’m reasonably sure isn’t yours.  I only marginally stink of hand to hand and one rifle I had to use, there is no blood on me aside from a little scraping, and besides, you’re better at bossing than I am.  Go get the medics.  I’ll get Jane and Hulk.”

“Yeah,” Darcy blew out a breath.  “You’re right, I’ll go get medical to get Jane.  Try to get Hulk a little less... hulky by the time they get there, I don’t want them pissing themselves.”

As she left, Tony looked at him.

“So she can swear enough to make a sailor blush and I can’t say ‘bastards’?  Double standards much, Rogers?”

“I’m trying to kick the swearing habit, Darcy embraced it.  It’s a good release for her, and limits the number of times I have to talk her off a metaphorical window ledge.  But for me, I hate I still swear like I’m still in the 107th, and it helps if others keep it clean.  I’m sorry about the chiding, I just, I’m working on it and I need a role model, ok?”

“Captain America thinks of me as his role model?  We’re doomed.”  Steve laughed, and then realized Tony was serious.

“Tony, in the dark hours, when things were bad, we told stories.  Some were fiction, and we knew it, some were true and we knew it, and some we wanted to be real and didn’t think they were.  Iron Man has been a hero long before you ever stepped foot in Afghanistan, just, to a _select group_.  You’ve always been my hero.  That’s why I’d really like it if you didn’t swear, because I need a hero, alright?”

“I was your hero?”

“Well, if we discount Zoe Washburn, on the basis of her being fictional, yes.  Now, where are we aiming, I want to jump on the opposite side so they don’t spook.  Jane is a hair trigger these days.”

“I’ll fly you down.”

They touched down gently opposite Hulk and Jane rolling a metal ball back and forth to each other while Jane sang about periodic elements.  Neither one seemed to notice the two heroes, for which Steve was sort of grateful, he needed to get a harness for buddy flight, Iron Man holding his waist had been embarrassing.

“Ahem, Doctor Foster?”

“Oh Steve!”  Her face lit up.  “Did you bring pain pills?  My leg really hurts.”

“I didn’t, sorry, but Darcy is marshaling the medics to get down here and help you.  In the mean-time, if you want I can check for a break?”

“Yes please, oh, wait.”  She turned to the giant green man next to her.  “He’s here to help me.  A friend.  Don’t smash.”

“Friend?”  Hulk looked at Steve like Steve had taken his favorite toy.  Suddenly Steve felt like an absolute jerk, the worst, a **bully**.  His words caught in his throat.

“Yes,” Tony answered for him.  “Steve is your friend, I am your friend, we’re all friends of Jane and want to help her.  You can have more than one friend.”

“Oh.  Help tiny Jane.”

“Oi!”

“Be fair, Jane, comparatively, you are kinda tiny next to him,” Steve told her as he knelt by her leg.  “I need to cut the jeans, there’s blood and I don’t want to risk moving anything if the bone broke skin.”

“Scissors, in the black box with purple duct tape, that corner,” Jane pointed.  Tony handed them to Steve and he cut away the lower leg of the jeans to look at the cut.  He didn’t see bone, but there was an impact gouge in her skin.  Gently he felt along the sides of her leg, working up until she hissed and Hulk rumbled.

“Easy on, now.  You’ve got bruising at the best, I need to do one or two more squeezes to make sure nothing is shifting.”

“Ok, but I reserve the right to whine like a baby.”

“So noted.  Three, two,” he pushed before one and Jane shrieked and went limp.

“NO!  Bad, hurt tiny Jane, no!” Hulk bellowed.

“Stop!” Steve commanded, and it bought him one second of confusion to lever.  “We’re in a small space, I can cause a lot of accidents fighting in a small space, it’s not safe.  Hit me later.”  Hulk backed down as Steve edged away from Jane.

“So, break?” Tony asked as if nothing had happened.

“Fracture on the tibia, she’ll need a cast, but it’s not major, it just hurts like a son of a,” Steve cut off quickly and slapped a hand on his mouth.  “Sorry,” he said under the hand.

“God, you are adorable,” Darcy commented from the doorway where the burnt remains of a man lay.  “Nice shot Jane.  I see we made a new friend.”  She eyed Hulk, still crouched over Jane.  “You gonna let the nice people who make pain stop in to help Jane?”

“Not hurt tiny Jane,” he said stubbornly.

“If they do, I will personally throw them off the highest place I can find.”

“He hurt tiny Jane,” Hulk said, pointing at Steve.

“Really?  Dude, not cool!”

“I was checking her fracture, and you know that hurts!  I already said he could hit me later.  Please don’t, you know how I am about heights.”  He shuddered, the train, the plane, the helicarrier hallway that dropped into nothing, he hated it all.  Heights were where bad scary things that hurt happened.

“Ok, no tossing you out a window, this time.  But only because you were trying to help.  I’m sure Hulk understands trying to help and getting in trouble.”  The big man nodded slowly.

“Accidents.  Make smash, people yell, puny Banner feel bad about Hulk, nobody want Hulk to stay.  Hulk not have friends because of accident smash.”

“Not true,” Steve insisted, and Hulk looked at him.  “Doctor Ross is your friend.  You saved her and it’s hard not to want to be friends with someone who saves you.  I should know,” he added smiling at Darcy.  “And Jane likes you, and I want to be your friend, and Tony said he wanted to be your friend.  Tony really likes it when you smash, he said so, right, Tony?”

Tony pulled up a glowing hologram of himself on his palm. _“I'm a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster,"_ said the little hologram.  “See?  I said that, and kept it.  I think you’re cool.”

Hulk nodded and pushed back into a corner, further denting the metal.  Darcy waved the medical team in, and while they seemed nervous, they remained professional, even when Hulk growled after a whimper from Jane.

<^>

Natasha was quiet.  She almost always was, but this felt… different.  Like she should say something and didn’t know how.  What do you tell the man you maybe love after he had his mind stolen?  Been there?  Too bad?  That stinks?

“Lewis is the Lieu.”

“WHAT?” both men yelled.

“The Lieu recruited me early, when I was a child.  She helped me get away, taught me how to blend in.”

“You said that was a guy called Zima,” Clint said.

“It was.  She and he, they could both be there in his head, I just didn’t know.  She protected him, the last.”  Both men drew in a breath, they knew what she was saying and puzzle pieces began to fill in.  Natasha watched her little broken family put all seventy years of the Lieu together from 45 words.  It was what she liked about them, they could do that, so she didn’t have to find the words alone.  And they accepted who and what she was.  And just like Darcy Lewis had saved her, Darcy had saved these men, her family, from the enemy Mad Hatter.  Natasha owed a debt.  And she was very good at balancing the scales.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Jump-fall- a controlled way of dropping a certain height, taught in Parkour classes, safest on the knees.  
> Cordite- a propellant used in bullets, it smells very distinct and only really gets on clothes and body when someone is close to a firing gun, like pull the trigger close.  
> Swear enough to make a sailor blush- to swear very colorfully and at length.  
> Hair trigger- quick to shoot.
> 
> Notes:  
> The magazine is the boxy thing the clip of bullets goes into, the casing is the part that drops out of the gun after the actual bullet leaves the gun.
> 
> "Clean up, Aisle 7" is a bad joke about spills in grocery stores. The humor is morbid, but this is what you get when you serve in combat zones, it's morbid humor or going a little crazy. Or both, both is always an option.
> 
> WD-40 is a machine lubricant and surprisingly good blood stain remover. Coke or Pepsi, the sodas, are often carried by highway patrol to clean blood stains off places where roadkill or accidents were, to minimize the number of people who see blood on the roads. The carbonation makes an acid that dissolves the blood.
> 
> Biohazard showers are for removal of biological agents that have gotten on skin, to minimize risk of infection. If Darcy got hit by blow-back enough that a bit of skin wound up in her hair, she needs to scrub down with disinfectant.
> 
> "Do or do not, there is no try," is a famous line from Star Wars, given to Luke Skywalker by Yoda during his training in the Dagobah system.
> 
> Golden retrievers are known for their friendly personalities and exuberance. Siamese cats are known for having low tolerance for loud sounds or wild movement and being stand-offish.
> 
> Lifetime Original Movies are known for having super sad plots that mostly end happy-ish with some kind of moral, but the first three quarters are normally just angst and death.
> 
> Swearing can in fact reduce pain and stress. Scientists do not know why yet, but for some people, cursing is a useful coping tool. For others, it induces a feeling of shame, which is never good for people recovering from prolonged stress.
> 
> Zoe Washburn was a character on the show Firefly, who was an incredibly tough and kickass woman.
> 
> There are numerous songs about the periodic table of elements, you can find them on youtube and pick which one you like best for this scene.
> 
> It can be hard for small kids to accept that your friend having another friend doesn't mean they've been taken from you, especially if friendship is a hard thing for said kid to get. Hulk is having a very emotionally charged moment with this friends in the plural idea.
> 
> Impact gouges are like blunt cuts, the corner of something ran into the leg hard enough to break skin.
> 
> Steve actually checks this injury correctly, but fractures do indeed hurt like holy hell and shrieking is a normal response.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Teaser:
> 
>  
> 
> “So, we’re about to be invaded by aliens, we’re hilariously out gunned and out manned, and my best gal is in the coffee place next door helping evacuate. You don’t look like runners. Who wants to fight?”


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy lays out the plan, calls in back-up, and suits up to fight.
> 
> Steve handles ground warfare, meeting old friends and figuring out he's being hit on.
> 
> Bucky helps Darcy in any way he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Fest! To ValkyriePhoenix, TheLurkingOne, SerialObsessor (DlStar71), Musichowler, Maharet, quadrad, Notashamed, Dances_With_Vulcans, DeeIsMe_ButIAmRose, Valkyriefromunderland, PyraSanada, aquadrop25, SoraSings, Matlida_Nicki, halfelf87, BloodElf, Shadows_of_Shemai, Joey99, UltraCute, space_monkey52, ElisaC, SionnachOiche3,  
> mouseymightymarvellous, Selene_Aduial, iwanttoreadmore, Maedae84, myUGH, Beth_Mac, Cassie and the 20 new kudo-ers. (Seriously, this is the next to last chapter, how am I still getting more kudos?) Anyway, you are all great and I love you.
> 
> Next update will be Friday, and then we move to the next story in the series next Monday.

Settling everyone in the make-shift meeting room they made of the Hangar when Hulk asked not to shift into Banner and nobody had the heart to say no, Darcy looked at her troops.

“Ok, Loki, what’s the play?  You said the portal would open ‘in the place most impressive and valuable as a symbol to this world, the home of a warm light for all mankind’ which while pretty sweet linguistics, does not tell me much.”

“I have to be pretty ‘sweet’ as you say, with my words as whilst All-Speak can work many wonders of translation betwixt languages with naught in common, there will always be gaps through which meaning falls.”

“Ugh, we have an incoming alien army and our only source is siting translation difficulty!”

“Darcy, sit down, slow down, breathe,” Steve told her and she shot him a dirty look but did as he said anyway.  “Do you know what it looks like, Loki?”

“Yes, I was shown one of those slippery book things with a printed painting of the place.  Seidmadr Selvig showed me.”

“Clint?” Darcy asked hopefully.

“Sorry, a lot of it is fuzzy and trippy, although that could be the concussion.”

“I SAID I was sorry!” Nat hissed at him, a faint blush revealing her actual embarrassment at how she handled it.

“Children, please, settle down,” Darcy sighed.  Who would have though highly trained spies and killers could be such pre-teens?

“This is it, Lady Darcy,” Loki said sliding her a sketch on Steve’s notepad.  That was fast.  “I used a little seidr to make it more accurate.  Sorry.”

“Dude, you and Steve need to get into the art business or something, this is good, and with such a quick turnover, there is some ka-ching to be had."  She registered the actual structure in the intricate sketch.  "Aw, shit.  Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“You have some kind of reactor powering the new Stark Tower with reasonably priced, clean, sustainable energy as a proof of concept, don’t you?”

“Yes, why?”  She flipped the book.

“A warm light for all mankind.  Eric’s going to open this in Manhattan.  I like Manhattan, I’m staying in a hotel there, all my stuff is in Manhattan!  Ok, not all of it, but this is bad.  Civilian casualties alone, we need to get ahead of this.”

“I regret I cannot join you,” Loki told her graciously, with a small tilt of his head.  “Once battle is joined, he, the _Mad Hatter_  as you have named him, will be watching, or have his minions watching, and if I appear anything but the monster of the tale….”

“He’ll destroy everything you ever loved and drive you so crazy you beg him for the mercy of death, I know.  Remember, I _know_.”  Darcy sighed.  “Ok, Loki gets to be our inside man, he ‘leads’ the attack, play up the full tilt diva, throw a fit, have fun but please don’t be too effective.  Is the portal a horizontal drop from the sky, alien rain thing, like the Bifrost was, or a doorway troops march in thing?”

“Above, your aerial defenses are weakest and the traffic of humans and machines would make a ground attack… problematic.”

“Ok, our flyers will have to go high, stop them before they hit civilians.  Steve, rally the people, you’re good at it and Stuttgart went viral already.  This is like, one of the most aggressive cities in the country, get them to fight back if they can and help evacuate if they can’t.  Clint, we’ll need eyes, pick a good spot and tell us where to go.  Natasha, kill the ones that make it to the ground.  Hulk, if it’s alive, aggressive, and not human, you can smash away and nobody will yell at you.  Sound good?”

“Darcy, you left yourself out,” Steve said.

“Selvig needs to be saved.  I have a proven way of doing it.”

“That could kill him!”

“I can do it,” Natasha offered, breaking up the forming argument between them.  “I also broke the controls.”

“I can’t ask you to do that twice, Pauk,” Darcy said.  She'd seen the guilt.

“You aren’t.  I’m telling you I’ll do that.  I think,” the spy paused.  “I think it’s time for H.E.R.O. to get involved.”

“I can’t break their covers.”

“Sorry, but what is Hero?” Steve asked.  Darcy checked the zapper she’d turned on before he came in, made sure it was jamming, then answered.

“It’s the Heritage Espionage and Resistance Organization.  My people.”

“There are so many, you could easily leave the rest of the Heracles Burn team out and still field a large number.  Who could tell the difference between them and the civilians?” Clint pointed out.

Darcy thought and nodded.  She pulled out her phone and pressed a specially coded app Red gave her.  It alerted all operatives who had the “available” option turned on with a short message, 70 characters, half a tweet.  It was all she needed.

**NYC incoming alien attack, fight capable agents with no cover, assist.**

“It’s done.  Loki, you feel like stealing that quinjet?  Or are you more comfortable with another mode of transport?”

“I believe I can fly it, landing… might pose certain difficulties.”

“You’re trying to take over the pathetic mud ball, remember?  Any crash you can walk away from is a landing.”

“Oh, well when you put it like that, I suppose I shall see your pathetic Avengers in glorious battle, make peace with whatever gods you choose, farewell.”

“That guy is a few cards short of a full deck,” Tony noted as the quinjet took off.

“Have a care how you speak!  Loki may have passed beyond the borders of reason, but he is of Asgard and he is my brother!” Thor boomed.

“Thor, buddy, I’m your sister and I readily admit to having a mind that’s a bag full of cats,” Darcy told him.  “Just because we went a little banana balls doesn’t change our nature.  And trust me, I recognize crazy when I see it.  I look in a mirror too often not to.  Face it big guy, your sibs from different cribs are nutso.”

“I… accept your words, but do not yet have the wisdom I need to understand them.”

“Norns willing, you never will,” Darcy said, laying a hand on his arm.  “We all know our roles?”

<^>

Steve watched Darcy requisition a jet from Phil, pointedly ignore Fury’s attempts to goad the team or break her away from them, and when the Director took her weapons to keep her on the Carrier, she laughed.  It was a short bark that held no amusement, but it was a laugh.  Beside them in the jet, Darcy rummaged in her swirling printed bag for something, and came out with mid-length black leather gloves with heavy copper wiring and plates.

“Kinetic powered shock gloves.  Jane made them.”

“I thought Foster only built for her work?” Tony asked.

“She does.  I’m a part of her work and there are people who want me dead.  So, helping me with keeping my brain alive is a part of her work.”

“Are you sure you want to be on the field for this, Angel?” Steve asked.  “There are going to be cameras.  You work best in shadows where nobody sees you.”

“They don’t have to know who I am.  Facial recognition will bring back a normal, if somewhat odd, young woman.  Analysis of my fight patterns will not connect with any mention or description of the Lieu, because I changed a lot of my patterns in Russia.  No one has ever connected me without my trust and permission before.  I’ve been scared of a lot of things in my life Steve, but standing up to fight has never been one of them.”

Steve nodded, he knew that much was true.

On the ground, after dropping off the flyers and Clint, with Natasha taking the jet to Stark tower, Steve started to doubt the sanity of the plan.  The beam of light opening the portal scared him, his heart beat loud in his own ears as he forced himself calm, walking into a bar across the street.  There was Cap memorabilia on the walls and he forced down a nervous giggle when he saw the same dumb poster from his Europe Tour.  Every man and woman there had the bearing of a soldier.

“So, we’re about to be invaded by aliens, we’re hilariously out gunned and out manned, and my best gal is in the coffee place next door helping evacuate.  You don’t look like runners.  Who wants to fight?”

“Son,” said a leathery old man, his balding head glinting in the light.  “You done fucked up wearing that.  I knew Cap, and you don’t get to mock him like this.”

Steve used his artistic eye to peel away seventy years of wear and tear.

“Holy crap.  HAPPY SAM!?!”  Steve pulled off the cowl.  “You made it!  I was trying to track down the records, almost everyone is listed dead, oh it’s good to see a friend.  Oh, and I did track Morita, he’s fine, well, technically, my thing you aren’t cleared for tracked him.  Wanna meet her?”

“I don’t believe you,” Happy Sam said stiffly.  “And all the plastic surgery in the world ain’t gonna make me.”

“Howlett’s hands,” Steve said, bringing his own up to fist them in front of his face.  “Dugan calling the Top Brass idiots who would put an incompetent white man in charge of the Nisei.  The woman who threatened to hobble a man behind enemy lines for disrespecting your men is right next door.  Morita’s thing about the fucking Fresno Cardinals, how do I know any of this?  Perfect recall.  You have type O blood, but when Dum-Dum needed an emergency transfusion, the doctor wouldn't let you donate, so Bucky decked him and we bribed the nurse to do it with all our cigarettes, because only Dugan got nicotine fits, none of the rest of us actually smoked that much.  You hate peanuts but you love the cracking sound of the shells because it makes your old CO’s eye twitch.  Do I need to continue, Sawyer?  We got alien hostiles incoming.”

“Okay, good enough for me,” Happy Sam said with a grin.  “Load up boys and girls, it’s the day of miracles, and we got spacemen to shoot.”  The bar burst into action and Steve moved on.  Soon he had to stop his recruitment and evacuation efforts to fight, leading to a snarky exchange with a police officer who didn’t want to take commands, until Steve backhanded a Chitauri directly at Darcy, who flipped the thing in a way that broke its spine while also lighting it up with electric charge that built when she moved her hands.

After that, the battle broke into moments, little spots of clarity when even his perfect recall blurred together attack after attack.

Steve’s heart stopped for a minute when Darcy screamed into the comms, only to start again when she started swearing about Thor’s driving being worse than Jane’s.

He freed a bank using the backlash of a grenade tossed onto his shield and ushered the people out and down into the subways.  A waitress tried to cling to him and he finally got she was flirting with him, which was sort of funny, in the situation.

“Sorry miss, I’m rationed like you would not believe.”

“Rationed?”

“Saving all my sugar?  Taken, with someone, in a relationship.  How do you say it now?”

“Oh, lucky lady, then.”

“I certainly think so,” Darcy told her from behind him.  “Cap we got barricades down on 39th and Eighth.  The locals are fighting it, but not even the Kitchen can hold them for long.”

“Hawkeye, where’s Hulk?”

“Not too far, Cap.  Get Lieu there and you’re golden.”

“Got it, go, you know what to do.”

“Better believe it punk,” Darcy winked at him and he felt a pang of loss that Bucky wasn’t beside them, but that was dispelled by an energy blast ripping up the street from above.

“Go,” he told the two women, and moved to throw his shield into the underside of the chariot thing.

<^>

He knew she didn’t mean to do it, but when the space-eel thing came crashing at her Darcy reached for her boys, and yanked back from Steve the moment she saw his own danger and hers missed by an inch.  But she kept the link with Bucky.  Mostly because Bucky wouldn’t let go.

He watched her fight, he helped her aim the alien rifles at airborne moving targets, the calculations in his mind resulting in a steady and consistent stream of shots that took down flyers.

He was with her when Steve twigged to the notion the blonde dish was flirting, and with her when they reasserted their claim.

He was with her when Iron Man carried a nuke into space.

He was there in the forever of five and three quarters of a second between Natalia closing off power and Stark’s kid falling from the sky like a rag-doll.  He didn’t know if the images of an icy cliff, a train and a fall were hers or his.

He was there when she slapped Tony for asking if she’d kissed him.

And then he was drawn back, away from Darcy, and the sky, back into his tube.  At least she was safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Betwixt- between.  
> Naught- nothing.  
> Ka-ching- an onomatopoeia for the sound of money entering a register, slang for cash.  
> Sibs from different cribs- adopted siblings.  
> Best gal- girlfriend.  
> Nicotine fits- cigarette or other tobacco product withdrawal.  
> Rationed- in a relationship. It comes from the phrase "save all your sugar for me" which was a common way of saying wait for me, I love you, when the men went overseas.  
> Dish- attractive person.
> 
> Notes:  
> Using seidr is in most Norse myths, kind of cheating. It's also almost exclusively the domain of women, so if we apply those ideas to Asgard, Loki grew up feeling his most powerful skill was dishonorable and girly in a hyper-masculine honor oriented culture. He has issues.
> 
> Both Loki and Darcy (and Nat but it doesn't come up here) have experience using deception to get what they want, so the conversation between them may sound odd, but it's just them having found someone who speaks Sneaky.
> 
> I loved the phrase 'bag full of cats' too much to delete it, even if I had to cut most of that scene.
> 
> I know Fury is acting like a major jerk in this, and I apologise to any Fury fans out there, but Darcy is way too strong a leader-type to get on well with Fury, who is also a very leader-type guy, but they have totally different ways of leading. Steve sees Fury's actions as disruptive, because he's used to Darcy's straightforward all cards face up way of leading and isn't a huge fan of Fury's 'push the buttons and make them think it's their idea' method.
> 
> Kinetic powered electric generators can be pretty small, and charge whenever they move. Darcy's gloves will build up charge when she uses judo, runs, or even shakes her hands out. Then the contact plates and charge lines will put that charge into attacks that touch them to another conductive surface, like skin or metal armor.
> 
> Military bars are sort of like cop-bars, the only real patrons are servicemen and women. This one has a Captain America theme, because it is in New York, and Steve is pretty famously from New York if you study military history at all. It is also probably the worst place ever to do a Cap cosplay, and lets be real, the Avengers uniform looked like a really high grade cosplay based on the comics.
> 
> During WWII, it was illegal for a black man to give blood for a white man. Which was dumb and racist, and I could totally see Steve deciding that if the only universal donor in the group is black, and we have a type O who can't have any other blood who needs a spare pint, screw skin color, save my guy. I can also see Bucky decking the racist doctor and the Howlies bribing a nurse so Happy Sam could give blood to Dum-Dum. Which he would do happily, Dugan proved himself with the incompetent white guy remark. Also, Dugan has a canon thing about cigars.
> 
>  
> 
> Teaser:
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> “Time to get to work.”  
> Damn straight, jackass. “Understood.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy celebrates the world not ending, falls apart, and organizes a press reaction.
> 
> Steve realizes how much Darcy puts on herself, becomes a dancing monkey, and asks Loki a very unique question.
> 
> Bucky gets put back in play, even if his handler has no idea what side he's on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normally this is where I thank everyone who commented and left kudos on the last chapter. But since this is THE last chapter, it's a little different. I want to thank everyone who got this far. Even if you never commented, never left a kudo or never bookmarked, you read this book of a work to the end. And that means a lot to me.
> 
> Also, as of posting this, Bodies in Time is has the Most Comments, Most Kudos, Most Hits and Most Bookmarks of any of my works. It is also the only work I have ever done that inspired other works, both the crack-fic you can find at the bottom of the page, and an official Bodies in Time soundtrack by SailorRoxy which can be found here: https://m.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL_Le1VPgC6XPOzdJf6F2qVSUsva2J7H8k
> 
> This is for everyone who helped make that true.

Darcy celebrated with the other Avengers, they’d decided they liked the name, even if it was clear they would not be answering to S.H.E.I.L.D. at all.  Tony spent about five minutes in awkwardly held silence before barraging Steve and herself with about a billion questions.  She listened to him until he ran out of air, and in the brief moment of quiet during his inhale, gave Tony the phone number for his parent’s safe house and the tech billionaire spent the rest of the evening with the helmet of the Mark 7 on, having a long conversation.  There may have been yelling, or crying.  The helmet kept the call silent to the outside world, which Darcy would be all over, except it made him look like a dork.  She hauled Steve, Thor and a chained (for appearances) Loki back to the carrier to get Jane out of Medical, and Coulson escorted them all back to the hotel that somehow, took very minimal damage.  Somewhere she missed along the way, Loki’s clothing became a slightly better tailored copy of Phil’s Secret Agent Man look.  Nobody blinked at his presence.

“I need a long shower, and a bed,” she announced as they closed the door.  “Thor, can you take care of Jane?  I’m wiped out.”

“I can indeed.”  He scooped her out of the wheelchair and went to deposit Jane in her bed.

“Use the second bed, she can’t share right now, she’ll move her leg in her sleep!” Darcy called after them.  “Sorry, Loki, that means you get the couch,” she said pointing.

“It can’t be worse than… ah.”

“Mad Hatter’s tea party?”

“Yes that.  Where do you _get_ such ridiculous names?”

“Pop culture.  Ask Steve, he’ll explain most of it.”

In the shower her walls came down.  All the pain and horror of the fight mixed with her memories of the War, and she ended up sobbing in the corner of the stall when Steve came in.  He turned the water off, wrapped her in a soft towel, and held her, his boxers getting damp from sitting in the shower stall with her.  She let him hold her as all her broken pieces fell apart, trusting him to catch them all and find the way they fit back together again.

“I should dry my hair,” she said, sniffling.

“Ok, Angel.”  Steve helped her out of the shower and onto the chair from the desk in their room, then plugged in the blow dryer and started brushing out her hair with the air on one side and the brush on the other.  When it was mostly dry, he pulled out a bag of soft foam rollers and did up her hair.

“I look like an old lady on a sit-com,” she told him.

“You always look like an angel to me, Darcy.  Besides, those old gals were on to something, in the morning, all you have to do is pull these out, do a touch of brushing, and you’re glamorous enough to take the stage.  My chorus line used to have these on in the trains so they could look perfect getting off at our next stop.”

“Why do you call me that?” she asked him.  Darcy was no angel, and she knew it.  But Steve kept calling her that.  “I’m no saint.”

“Because since day one, when you beat Mac like a drum, I _knew_ you were my guardian angel.  You don’t have to be a saint to be that.”

“I’ve done horrible things Steve.  I’ve had to, to keep Bucky even a little bit sane.”

“Wasn’t it an angel that killed literally every first born child in Egypt that didn’t have a ward on the door?  Wasn’t it angels that brought warnings and judgments and curses?  Weren’t _they_ soldiers too?  Their opening line tends towards the _please don’t freak out, I’m not here to kill you_ end of things, that says something about them.  You’re my Angel, Darcy, and you always will be.  Kick me out, tell me it’s over, and I’ll go, but I will always think of you as my guardian angel.”

“You’re a sap.  I need to attack a pillow with my face.”

Curled up beside Steve, wearing one of his shirts over her turquoise sleep shorts, she almost felt better.  And when he nudged her out of a dream of freezing to death, she crawled half on top of him, and didn’t dream again.

<^>

Steve had known being Captain America so publicly would get them some attention.  He hadn’t counted on how much.  They were awakened by a banging on their door.  He pulled away from an overly alert Darcy to answer it, only to see Loki.

“Come at once, the box that speaks is very insistent and annoying and no amount of commanding makes it stop.”

“Box that what now?” Steve asked, while Darcy pushed past him to her laptop.

“I have seventy-three alerts all subject lined ‘turn on the fucking news’ or some variation on the theme.  I guess we turn on the news.”

Steve clicked the power on the remote to the television.  Scenes from yesterday’s battle were playing.  He switched the channel, more coverage of them fighting, more questions about them.  Another channel was doing interviews, from survivors to fighters to police.  Everyone wanted to know more about them, everyone was trying to pry into their pasts.  Discussions on whether he was really Captain America or an impostor and if he should be trusted were rolling and cries for the government to figure them out were pouring from the screen when Darcy stole the remote and turned it off.

“So, we’re burned.  That’s ok, they aren’t looking where it could really hurt us.  But we have to get ahead of this or the outlets controlled by… _them_ are going to crucify us in the eyes of the public.”  Darcy sighed, put in one ear bud with a playlist running, and sat to type out replies.

“I don’t understand,” Loki said to him.  Steve pulled him away from Darcy so they didn’t break her concentration.  He could hear Let’s Get Down To Business from Mulan playing, so it was important he let her work.

“Darcy is protecting her people, giving orders, calming them down.  In the meantime, I have to figure out how to be the right kind of dancing monkey for people, so they won’t get in our way when the time comes to do what we have to.”

“She’s a general, marshaling troops.  You are the Prince who puts on a good show for the people.  I should wake my brother; he has played that role many times.  Granted, he should probably never be allowed to lead an army, but he does make a very good, what did you call it?  A dancing monkey?”

“Yes.  But, I’d feel better with someone watching Darcy’s back, so if Thor comes with me… can I trust you to keep her safe?”

“I’m well known for lying and tricking and getting up to troublesome antics.  I think many on Asgard would question your sanity for asking that even before I almost destroyed my birth realm and invaded yours.”

“I don’t care what many on Asgard think, I care if you will protect the woman I love.  Loki, she is all I have right now.  And I’ve seen the vulnerable sides she doesn’t show.  I know she has years more experience than I do, but I also know those years hurt her, badly, and I need to know she has somebody watching her six or I can’t go do my part.  Will you protect her?”

Loki looked stunned.  “I swear upon whatever honor I may yet claim; she is safe with me.  She and I have walked in similar shadow, seen similar pain, sacrificed similar parts of our souls.  I will guard her faithfully, if for no other reason than she could have gone down my roads and didn’t and I yet wish to learn the trick of remaining a… good person,” he said awkwardly “in the face of so much pain and deceit.  You can at least trust my self-interest, even if I am not a particularly trustworthy person.”

Steve nodded and went to grab the phone Tony had handed him the night before, and called Pepper Potts, Tony’s former assistant and now head of Stark Industries, who had been called ‘scarily competent’ by Natasha, which was just about the best compliment someone like Agent Romanova could give.

Pepper arranged a press conference, and Steve put on his best suit, and Loki did something to Thor’s armor to make it look better and less battle-worn.  Tony showed up at the last minute in sunglasses and hauling Banner behind him.  Clint and Natasha showed up in a sedan with Coulson, who stood with Ms. Potts to the side as he took the podium and gave a speech about coming together, and being strong enough to fight on the days unlike any other.  Somehow Darcy had managed to write it in between dealing with her network, collapsing every few hours, and disappearing with Ms. Potts and a drastically altered Loki pretending to be a bodyguard to come back wearing a suit of navy blue and a complete makeup overhaul that almost totally transformed her face.

“And now I think we have time for a few questions.”  A wave of sound hit him so he just pointed to the blonde in pink.

“Christine Everhart, Vanity Fair.  Aside from the more… colorful members of your team, the public still does not know who you are.  Why are you hiding the identities of people who should be called heroes?”

“Ms. Everhart, I’m not hiding anything about myself.  My name is Steven Grant Rogers, I was born in 1918 in Brooklyn, I enlisted in the Army, became a publicity stunt and then went AWOL to free men taken for a labor camp, which got me into real fighting and wound up crashing a plane into arctic waters that I was only retrieved from a week or so ago.  My record, as far as I know, is only limited by redacted sections and classified details, and that’s something to ask the Army about.  As for the others, they get to make choices about what they want shared.  I won’t take that choice, that _freedom_ , from them.  I still remember the last time someone made people share personal information publicly, and that did not end pretty.”

“But what about the Hulk?  Is he a public threat?”

Steve narrowed his eyes at her.  “Hulk is a kind, caring, protective individual who personally saved not only many civilians in the Battle of New York, but a close friend.  Additionally, from what I understand about the circumstances of what you might call his birth, he is a minor.  I’m not giving the personal details of a _child_ to the public.”

“But you’d send one into battle.”

“Next time, I’ll call you and you can tell the two ton, super strong, bullet proof hero he can’t come with his friends.  _I_ know to pick my battles.  Next question, you sir, in the green tie.”

“Ben Urich, New York Bulletin, what were the things that attacked us and do you know if they will return?”

“Good question Mr. Urich sir, our information says that they are called Chitauri, they come from really far away, and the only thing capable of making an,” he checked his notes, “Einstein-Rosen bridge from their neighborhood to ours is scheduled to be taken off planet as soon as humanly and Asgardianly possible.  We have some top rank scientists working on containment and removal, and our ally Prince Thor of Asgard has offered the services of the Royal Vault, which as far as we can translate is Fort Knox but better and on another planet, to house the object in question.”

“Will any other Avengers be making a statement?”

Steve looked back at his team, and saw panic in many eyes.  He locked eyes with Thor, who bounded up and answered a few questions with barely understandable enthusiasm.  Sitting next to Darcy, Steve felt her nudge his elbow with hers and he knew, they’d make it.

<^>

In the tube, the man listened to his handler bark orders and reprimand underlings.  Then he heard “Defrost the Asset.  He’ll be needed sooner than thought.”

_DARCY!_

_Yeah, what’s up?_

_They’re defrosting me.  I’ll need you.  All of you.  Everyone you can get.  He’s not happy._

_Understood.  I’m here, Bucky, I’m here._

He listened calmly to the motions of defrosting and prepping him.  He let himself fall back into her mind as the pain hit and sudden numbness took the pain.  He came back into his own mind as the handler showed him pictures of his targets.

“Time to get to work.”

 _Damn straight, jackass._ “Understood.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Burned- Spy speak for having a cover exposed.  
> Watching her six- literally, to watch behind, it means to guard someone's back in a fight.  
> AWOL- Absent Without Leave
> 
> Notes:  
> In Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, the character of the Mad Hatter had a very bizarre Tea Party he roped Alice into. Darcy is using this scene as a code for all of what may have happened to Loki in Thanos's custody.
> 
> It's not uncommon for people who seem together and on top of everything in a crisis to fall apart when the crisis is over. It's even more common when the individual has PTSD, and almost guaranteed when the crisis is also a trigger, something that reminds them strongly of the traumatic event.
> 
> Steve does a really easy 40's look for Darcy's hair. While I prefer to do it this way, with slightly damp hair drying while I sleep, there is also a very good 15 minute method for people who don't like sleeping in curlers here: https://youtu.be/a4roRzuPXgw
> 
> Steve is actually siting a ton of actual Bible stuff here, much of which was also in the Judaic Holy Texts about angels. They are indeed very scary beings in canon who do a lot of stuff that if they weren't the servants of God, would be called Bad Things, like infantacide and cursing whole kingdoms. Steve has never felt Darcy had to have a certain level of purity or innocence to be a guardian angel, because he grew up on the old "Angels are freaking terrifying, let me learn you a thing," school.
> 
> Loki is literally never portrayed anywhere as being a good, honest, trustworthy person. It stands to reason that is because this was the prevailing thought on him in Asgard back when Asgard and Midgard still talked, so he is rather blindsided by Steve's request that Loki guard Darcy.
> 
> Steve's reference to making people share personal information publicly is about the colored badges Jews and anyone on the Queer spectrum had to wear in Hitler's regime to make them easier targets for hate-crime. This is all the shade.
> 
> By being so public and getting out in front of the media to tell their side, the Avengers really put the crunch on Hydra. When they were scattered and alone, Hydra had time to get the Insight Helicarriers up and running. They don't have that now that the Avengers are a clearly united team.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Teaser for Bodies in Space, coming to a series near you:
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> “Heracles slew the original monster of myth by burning the heads, not cutting them off. The burnt heads could not regrow new ones, no two more to take its place. In the world of spies, being outed as a spy is called being burned. See where I’m going?”

**Author's Note:**

> TBC
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Teaser Alert:
> 
>  
> 
> “You’ve got a lotta nerve Rogers.”  
> “About a hundred billion of ‘em,” Darcy replied cheerfully. “Normally. I’m running low, and trust me pal, my last nerve, that ain’t a place ya go for fun. Ask Mac the Mountain. He went looking for Mohamed and he found me instead.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [We Have A Future](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8024989) by [BairnSidhe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BairnSidhe/pseuds/BairnSidhe)
  * [Never Alone](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8224882) by [BairnSidhe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BairnSidhe/pseuds/BairnSidhe)




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